Secrets of an Anarchist
by etiquette-faux-pas
Summary: Mia Paxton is a political journalist living with her best friend, Jane Foster. When Jane is called away to Tromsø on business, Mia is unexpectedly roped into advising SHIELD on the motives of a certain God of Mischief-placing her long kept secrets at risk. What is Mia Paxton really hiding, and what does SHIELD want with an anarchist anyway? Book 1 of 'The Paxton Files'.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"The Tesseract has awakened," the Other told Thanos ominously. "It is on a little world, a human world." On his knees before his lord and master, he continued. "They would wield its power…but our ally knows it's workings like they never will." He thought back on the scepter he had bequeathed on the Asgardian, as a token of their alliance. "He is ready to lead; and our force,_ our_ Chitauri, will follow." Of a sudden, he sensed his master's dissatisfaction, his distrust of their exiled collaborator.

"He is already under our control! The Tesseract has claimed him." The Other sought to reassure him. Still, Thanos was not convinced.

_We must seek another means to control him, should his alliance prove false. _

The Other thought back on the legends of Asgard; of all the things he knew of Loki, adopted son of Odin. And then…something came to him.

"There is a way," he said slowly. "One Heimdall of Asgard gave a warning to him in his youth, a warning–nay, a divination_–_ that a mortal shall become his queen." He chuckled lowly, a gravelly utterance that partially sounded like chains rattling. "How ironic: the one who deems himself so far above the humans, _bound_ to one by Asgard's very own watchman."

_How is this to our benefit? _Thanos demanded, irritated with his minion's excitement.

"We shall threaten her," the Other explained softly, humbly. "She shall be found, and we shall tell him so; not revealing her identity to him–he has yet to discover his folly. We shall threaten to put the mortal in harm's way, should he deviate from the plan. And if he does remain true, yet fails in our conquest…we have our revenge."

There was a long silence. _It is good, _the villain decided. The Other let out a sigh of relief.

The Other imagined the magnificent forces, the Chitauri lined up in perfect battle formation. His wicked lips curled in satisfaction at the thought of the glory to come. "A world will be his. The universe, yours." His eyes glittered dangerously. "And the humans, what can they do…_but burn?"_

_. . ._

It was five thirty AM, in the small homey flat.

Five thirty AM, and the place was a mad house.

Jane Foster, scientist extraordinaire, was rushing about the flat in a desperate attempt to fix her hair while running the coffee machine and talking on the phone at the same time. Her assistant, Darcy Lewis, was calibrating various scientific instruments and chewing bubble gum-which was a little absurd, considering the time of morning.

"Yes, we'll be there by seven," Jane was reassuring someone, while trying out various pins in her hair. "Yeah, uh huh," she said quickly, covering the phone with one hand. "Darc, don't forget to pack the GPS this time. We can't afford to be late!"

"Fine, oh bossy one," Darcy said flatly, shoving the correct device into a black duffle bag.

Meanwhile, the front door creaked open, to reveal a tall, dark haired woman juggling keys and a heavy messenger bag. "Darcy, Jane, I'm home!" she called, brushing her brown hair from her green eyes, and looked up to see Darcy giving her a wave from the kitchen table. "Oh. Hi."

Immediately, Jane's head popped around the bathroom door frame. "Mia! Thank god you're back. Where'd you put the dry cleaning?"

"In the coat closet, you're room was locked again," Mia said, opening the closet door and removing a two piece suit set for Jane. "Must be important, wherever you're going."

"Consultation wif the Minifstry of Science," Jane said around her toothbrush.

"Ah." Mia hung her dark brown trench-coat on the coat-rack, unwinding her long black scarf from around her neck.

"Where were you?" Darcy asked inquisitively, the way your mother might when you'd stayed out too late. "'Long night'?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Please, Darcy. You know I don't do that kind of crap." She sighed, and ran a hand tiredly through her hair. "No, I had an interview with a mayoral candidate. I waited to be the last reporter in the room."

"Uh oh," said Darcy with a smirk. "Someone was in trouble."

"Yeah, well." Mia went to the coffee machine and poured herself a mug. "He's involved in more black market operations than I could count, I'm nearly positive he runs a money laundering ring, and more than half of his personal history doesn't check out. He had it coming." She took a swig of the drink. "Not that he knew it came. Probably thought I was flirting with him most of the time; but I got the information I needed. He won't be happy when my article comes out, though."

"That's the way of things, isn't it?" Darcy commented, shoving as many instruments into the bag at once as humanly possible. "Being a political anarchist. And let me guess: the article is due in, six hours?"

"Three," Mia corrected, reaching into the fridge for some chocolate hazelnut spread, and tossing two pieces of bread into the toaster. "But no biggie. I drafted the whole thing on the bus ride home."

"Sweet." Darcy finished packing the devices and necessary materials, and turned to holler at the closed bathroom door. "Miss Foster, you're wanted on stage in three minutes!"

"Fine, Darcy!" Jane sounded frustrated. Mia exchanged a look with Darcy. "I guess that's my cue," she said, going over to knock on the bathroom door herself.

Mia and Jane had been rooming together since their first year of college, respectively. While Jane had been a bit bookish and shy, Mia had been relatively popular, funny, and intelligent; but could suddenly become bitter and sarcastic at times. Nobody knew why or where these random bouts of anger came from–but then, nobody really knew who she was, or where she came from. She had met Jane one day in their university's library, while looking for a place to stay; they'd been friends ever since. And a strange pair of friends they made: Jane was kind, if not studious and sometimes absent minded; while Mia was sarcastic and a little antisocial: she could be exacting with strangers, but very sweet to those she trusted.

Over time, Jane had toned down Mia's skeptical nature, to a degree (literally); while Mia taught Jane how to be stand up for herself. They had learned a lot from each other and about each other, over the years. Jane had been the nerdy girl most of her childhood, ignored and with not much more than her books for company. Being exceptionally smart had gotten her into an Ivy League school on a science scholarship, but she had little money for much else–hence her taking in a roommate.

Mia didn't like to talk about her childhood, and gave very few details; what she did say was that she had been inquisitive, sometimes more than was good for her, and that she had always an attention to details that over the years became so strong that she was practically a human lie detector. This had led to her interest in politics; mainly for the sake of uncovering the truth behind a person usually full of lies and presenting the facts to the public. She never told why she had chosen that school, or how she was paying for it. Jane had decided not to ask, after seeing the dark look cloud her friend's face at the mention of family.

Now, so many years later, they were as close as they'd ever been; even more so after Jane's trip to New Mexico the year before. Something had happened down there, and Jane didn't like to talk about it, which Mia found strange. Jane usually loved to talk about her 'field trips', but not this one. Darcy had hinted that it had something to do with a guy, which was completely unlike Jane. Neither she nor Mia dated much; their work took up too much of their time, and Mia had a tendency to tick people off.

But over the past year, Jane had become rather uncharacteristically depressed, moping around the flat in pajamas and eating ice cream in between science gigs, for which Darcy teased her endlessly. Mia, for her part, stayed out of the matter; except to occasionally try and cheer her friend up.

"Jane?" Mia called through the door gently. "Want some help?"

A sigh came through the door. "You're probably worn out, Mia. Don't worry about it."

Instead of responding, Mia simply opened the door and went in. Jane stood in front of the mirror, close to tears from trying to pin up her hair.

"I gotcha," Mia said soothingly, taking the pins from Jane's sore fingers and letting the woman's hair fall back down her back before rearranging it properly. "Just give me a minute, and we'll have you in shape."

"I don't know how you can do it," Jane moaned, shaking her fingers ruefully. "It's impossible."

"Aw, pfff," Mia blew her off. "Is the super-scientist giving up so easily?"

Jane scowled at her in the mirror. Mia smirked back at her.

"Besides," Mia continued, "You have this great, silky smooth hair that's easy to manage. I'd like to see you try and contain these curls." She pointed at her own head of ringlets. "Now _that's_ difficult. This is fun, in comparison. Like the difference between Play-doh and sculptor's clay." She set the last few pins in and stepped back. "There. All perfect."

Jane swiveled her head and admired the work, a look of relief all over her face. "You're a lifesaver, Mia," she said, turning and giving her friend a quick hug, then heading out of the bathroom. "Darcy, let's go!"

"So... you wouldn't happen to be making cake today, would you?" Darcy asked slyly, slinging the duffel over her shoulder.

Mia, who had gone back to her coffee, shrugged lightly, suppressing a grin. "Maybe. I'll be out most of the day, but if I have enough time before my conference call tonight, I'll toss one in the oven."

"Yuss," Darcy said, punching the air in triumph as she walked out the front door. "Any day, boss!" she called back to Jane. "You've got the car keys."

Jane rolled her eyes at her intern's antics. "Sometimes, I feel like she's running me," the scientist admitted.

"You and me both, then."Mia handed her a travel mug of coffee. "Good luck today."

"See you tonight. And make sure you get some sleep!" Jane called on her way out, pointing back at her friend accusingly. "Darcy can do without cake."

"Can you?" Mia called, once she was out in the hall. A loud groan came back through the door, and she laughed. "Hypocrite."

. . .

Two hours and forty five minutes later, Mia had just sent her article over to her editor at the New York Times for review. She leaned back in her office chair and sighed, clicking off the television on her wall. The news channel was broadcasting another wearying debate about President Winters. She knew more about that man than most, and didn't need to hear the usual speculations over again.

Stretching her arms above her head and looking out her window at the city beyond the glass, she changed her thought train from the one she least liked, and focused on the present. It still surprised her how she had actually been successful doing what she'd chosen to do with her life, instead of what others had expected her to do. Being friends with Jane had been rewarding in that regard as well: both she and the scientist had shared an understanding of the trials of being women in their respective fields, and had overcome some pretty serious obstacles to get where they were now.

After her brief reverie, Mia sat forward determinedly. She still needed to request the ledgers from the Bureau of Conveyances on the recent Delaney trial; she had a nagging suspicion that a Supreme Court judge was caught up in some corrupt dealings there. A judge that was directly involved in another investigation she had going on, concerning a lawyer and a–

On her desk, the household cordless phone rang. _Private,_ the screen read. Well, that didn't help. Half the calls she received were from private or unknown numbers…but those usually came in on her personal phone. Intrigued, Mia answered the call.

"Paxton, Foster and Lewis residence," she said, inwardly chuckling at the thought of Darcy's comment that it sounded like they were a law firm every time one of them answered the phone.

Instead of a reply, a harsh crackling came through the phone. "Hello?" Mia called again, but there was no reply. The phone beeped, signaling that the call had dropped.

"Hmm." Mia set the phone down dismissively, turning back to her tablet console…only for her mobile to ring. It too read _Private. _

"Hello?" Mia answered the call through her earpiece. The same static met her ear.

"Darcy, if this is another of your pranks," Mia began, when the static suddenly dropped.

"_Nargul in-nui argotharny_," a strange, harsh voice said, and Mia immediately gravitated to the glock she stored in her right upper-hand desk drawer. That voice was definitely NOT Darcy.

"Who is this?" she demanded stridently; deciding against the glock as her wrist flicked on instinct. But as suddenly as it had begun, the line beeped, the mobile clearly displaying CALL LOST on its display.

Angrily, Mia tried to call the number back; it gave her a disconnected line message and terminated the call in a matter of seconds.

Then, she realized that her hand was tingling. She looked down, and saw herself holding a small sphere of golden energy sparks. She scowled and fisted her hand quickly, the sphere collapsing under the pressure and exploding in a small cloud around her hand. Now was _so_ not the time for that.

"Well, that's charming," Mia grumbled, slouching back in her chair moodily and not a little frustrated. "I may not be a linguist, but that sounded like a threat on my life."

"Not that you don't get those all the time, cat eyes," said a familiar voice from her tablet's screen. Another old friend.

"Pepper!" Mia said eagerly, glad to see a recognizable face after such a nasty incident. She was actually one of the only people who had the privilege of the woman by that particular nickname. The journalist composed her face into a composed and friendly expression. "How goes the Stark-mania?"

"You know, if I hadn't just seen you looking extremely put out, I would believe you actually want to know," Virginia Potts said, eyeing Mia thoughtfully. "Tony has a point. You really are a good liar."

"I'm not a liar," Mia said defensively. "I go around calling out liars: that's my job. I, on the other hand, am merely persuasive. Tony just likes to get my goat because I called out a few kinky details of his social life at one point or another." She grinned at the memory.

"True enough. And he likes you well enough now…well, most of the time."

"When I don't call him cocky, or get into sarcastic smack-downs with him, yes."

Pepper laughed. "Hey, are you available for lunch later? I have an opening around two-thirty, and really need a second opinion on something."

Mia could tell there was more to what Pepper meant, but that she didn't want to say it on a (possibly) recorded or monitored transmission. She looked over to her thick leather bound planner and saw that her day was actually double (and in some places, triple) booked. Then she looked up at her friend.

"Sure, two-thirty works. Usual place?"

"Sounds good."

"Alright, see you there, cat eyes." Pepper winked before closing the call. 'Cat eyes' was a pet name she had come up with for Mia. It had something to do with how she kept a stealthy eye on the city, while being as cool as a cat', Pepper had said–though Mia suspected it had something to do with the coal eyeliner she wore regularly.

About seven hours later, after running more errands than she cared to count, Mia found herself sitting at a quiet upscale café, reading through a French menu and thinking about her day so far. A highly controversial paper ready for print (her editor had approved it around noon,) a threat on her life (which she still didn't understand,) and six different interviews and short meetings postponed (or skipped) in order to meet with her orange haired friend. All in all, not a bad start. She still had a few stops to make on her way home, and that conference call in the evening, but besides that, she was free.

This was good because though she was desperate not to show it, Mia was tired. She had been on this rigorous schedule for two weeks, though Jane and Darcy had been too busy to notice. Even when she was tucked away in her room, she wasn't sleeping. In fact, Mia had slept a grand total of eight hours of sleep in those two weeks, and the strain was beginning to get to her.

Pepper showed up promptly at two thirty, looking like she'd come straight from a press conference. She was beaming, and full of news: according to her, she had been handling most of the publicity for Mr. Stark while he worked on his latest project: some sort of self sustaining energy conduit called an 'Arc Reactor'.

"In fact, we're installing the prototype tonight," Pepper said proudly, sipping minty lemonade. "If it works properly, Stark Tower should be able to run its power completely off-grid for, oh, about a year."

"Impressive," Mia said, stifling a yawn. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude; it's just been a busy week…well, couple of weeks, honestly."

"I'll bet; with this year's elections being as highly controversial as they are, you must be swamped."

"Yeah, well," Mia said, a little sheepishly. "A lot of that controversy is my doing." She yawned again. "I just hope they don't transfer me down to DC, come election season. I don't do DC; it messes with my head."

After a nice lunch, Pepper grew more serious, the talk turning from work to more serious matters.

"I'm worried about Tony," she confessed. "A few months back, he came across information regarding a program SHIELD came up with, called 'the Avengers Initiative'."

Mia stiffened. "I've heard of that," she muttered. "It had a level seven SHIELD security clearance, but one of my associates got her hands on the material as well. Something to do with planet-wide protection against hostile alien invasion."

"Exactly." Pepper sighed. "I don't even think he qualified for the program, but it seems to be bothering him."

"It was shut down," Mia said thoughtfully. "In favor of another, more complex program." She didn't give any more details; this was actually something that she was tracking down for herself, and she didn't want to give away her leads.

"Right..." Pepper gave her a suspicious, lingering look, but let the subject drop. "Anyway, last night we picked up a transmission from a SHIELD base. It was incomplete, but from the sound of things, the entire base was blown up by some sort of enormous force field. Tony was, of course, immediately interested; but for some reason, he didn't want to tell me anything about it this morning."

"I don't blame him," Mia said, sipping her own iced tea thoughtfully. "SHIELD is involved in a lot of things that are sometimes better left uncovered." _For a time,_ she amended mentally.

"But you know Tony," Pepper insisted. "He's not one to not follow up on something like that; and I'm sure he did. Why isn't he telling me?"

Mia thought for a minute. She knew that Tony Stark was an arrogant git sometimes, but he was an extremely good guy, and didn't want those he cared about in harm's way…especially Pepper.

"I dunno," she finally concluded. "It probably was either something stupid, like someone put aluminum foil in some high powered cosmic microwave and blew the place sky high" –Pepper snickered at that mental image– "or it was important, but Stark doesn't want you to know too much."

Pepper took this news solemnly, then nodded and proceeded to order cheesecake for the both of them. "I just hate it when SHIELD gets involved," she said after the waitress had gone away with their order. "It's not that I don't like seeing Phil Coulson when he stops by from time to time, but..." Pepper sighed. "It's just that, whenever they're behind things, it gets complicated."

"Tell me about it," Mia said quietly. She'd worked with her share of SHIELD agents, sometimes not under the best of circumstances. "But they're not all bad. After all, any organization has its kinks. SHIELD just has…way more than necessary." Both women laughed at this.

"So what do you think I should do?" Pepper asked. "What would you do, in my shoes?"

Mia hesitated. "Let him have his secrets," she said. "If things get more complicated, let him have his space. You remember how things went with Afghanistan: he may need some time. And if SHIELD pulls him into something, he won't even have the time to explain things until after all the chaos is over."

"So, basically…" Pepper was confused.

"Enjoy the moment," Mia said firmly, watching her fingers swirling with golden sparks under the edge of the table. "But brace yourself for what's coming."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Mia!"

A sharp rapping on her door roused Mia from her sleep of the dead.

"Mia!" It was Darcy. "It's like nine thirty, you should probably wake up! Or you'll be…late for something…" she trailed off.

Mia sat up bolt upright in bed, glaring over at her clock with one eye stuck shut and her hair a disheveled mess. "SHIT!" she yelled, when she saw the time. It really was nine thirty. AM. Nine thirty AM.

Her day had just gone in the toilet.

"Yeah, I know," Darcy said, laughing a little through the door as Mia rushed out of bed, catching her foot on the blankets and falling to the ground with a loud and ungraceful _thud._ "Listen, Jane and I have been called away to Toronto–"

"Tromsø!" Jane yelled from another room. _Probably speed packing again_, Mia thought.

"That's what I said!" Darcy called back stubbornly. "Tromsø. We're gonna be gone for a week this time, will you be okay?"

Mia looked over at the door from her closet, alarmed. "A week? That's rather…sudden." _Suspicious,_ her mind said.

"Yeah, just got the call this morning," Jane relayed. "They're paying for everything, it's a good gig. If only we just had a little more…_time…_"

"We even get a private plane," Darcy agreed enthusiastically. "Part work, mostly vacation. Awesome." Then she called back to Jane, "Where the hell is Tromsø, anyway?"

"Norway," Mia grumbled. "It's in Norway, Darcy." Great; after her creepy ass phone call/threat the day before, she got to stay home by herself for a whole week. "Peachy."

"So…a snowy holiday then." Darcy sounded a bit less enthusiastic now. "Let me just…go and pack my parka."

"Relax, Darc," Mia called through the door. "Tromsø is big on parties. It's literally called 'the Paris of the north'; so you won't be sitting in an igloo somewhere bored out of your mind."

"Then I'll pack my sexy snow-boots," Darcy said sarcastically. "Hooray."

Mia shook her head bemusedly her friend, and came out of her bedroom with a wicked grin. "Don't forget your sexy thermals."

"Damn!" Darcy swore on her way to her bedroom. "This is looking better and better, Jane."

"Oh, perk up," Jane called from the kitchen table, where she was speed-eating cereal. Mia joined her, plunking down in a chair and grabbing for the nearest box. She shoved aside Darcy's cake plate (still covered in dark chocolate crumbs) and dumped a serving in a bowl she'd nabbed from the cupboard.

"Well, good luck," Mia said, much more lightly than she felt. "Whatever they have you working on; a trip overseas will be nice."

"Yeah…" Jane looked at Mia's unusual state of disarray concernedly. Mia was usually always made up perfectly; for her to be this out of order was a bad sign. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I mean, you can call a friend or something to stay over if you want…"

"I'll be fine," Mia reassured her, forcing a smile. "I'll help you pack, if you want."

"Don't you have places to be?"

Mia waved her off. "I've already effed up my day by sleeping in. Helping a friend pack for a trip won't screw it up anymore."

Jane grinned. "Great. I really could use the help."

After wolfing down her cereal at a rate that would probably give her a stomach ache, Mia went into Jane's room and helped her pick out a week's worth of outfits.

"There," she said twenty minutes later, gazing at the clothes folded in the suitcase proudly. "Work clothes, civvies, pajamas, dressy outfit, gym outfit, snow outfit; work shoes, sneakers, booties, snow boots, and towels." She shuddered. "Never trust your hotel to have decent towels. You'll nearly always be horribly disappointed."

With a laugh, Jane slipped on her flats and zipped up the suitcase. "Darcy you ready?"

"Ready to roll," Darcy called back happily. They went out into the main area, where, true to her word, Darcy was wearing an enormous parka–and sunglasses.

"Let's get this show on the road," she crowed, grabbing a few equipment bags and taking them outside. "Ooh, look! They sent a limo!"

"A limo?" Mia wondered. She and Jane moved to the window to see that there was indeed a black stretch limo awaiting the scientist and her intern.

"Cripes," Mia muttered. "They really went all out, didn't they?"

"Guess so," Jane said, slightly uncomfortably. Then she shrugged. "Well, that's a nice change. Beats the Mini any day."

"Oi!" Mia cried, slapping Jane's arm. "Don't diss the Mini!"

Jane laughed. "I left the keys on the kitchen counter, in case you want to use it while we're gone."

"Thanks, I just might," Mia said thoughtfully. It could help her catch up on her rounds, if she didn't need to wait for public transportation.

After waving as the limo pulled away with her friends inside, Mia made her way back up the stairs to the flat; she needed a shower and a really big cup of coffee before this day was going anywhere.

An hour and a half later, she sat at her desk; _r__eady for the day_, she quipped mentally, before scrolling through her dubiously full email inbox and sighing.

Rather suddenly though, and before she could get to work (or fetch the necessary doughnut,) her mobile went off. She answered it through her Bluetooth.

"This is Paxton," she said primly, typing away at her mayoral candidate overview with one hand while sipping coffee with her other.

"Miss Paxton, this is Agent Coulson from SHIELD." Mia sat up straighter and set the coffee down.

"Agent Coulson. This is a surprise," she said, sounding surprised indeed. "What have I done this time, to garner SHIELD's attention?"

"Actually, this has nothing to do with you, Miss Paxton," Coulson replied. "We have reason to believe that your life is in danger, and would like you to come in."

Mia had worked with Agent Coulson before, and knew how the whole 'I'm telling you what to do even though you're a civilian' thing went. "Coulson, I'm not on the SHIELD watch list. Government, sure; but politics 'supposedly' have nothing to do with SHIELD." She made sarcastic air quotes at the obvious lie. "So why the sudden concern?"

Coulson sighed. "Have you received any strange phone calls in the past day?"

Mia's stomach dropped. She said nothing.

"We're sending a car to pick you up," Agent Coulson relayed matter-of-factly. "Be ready in five minutes." The line disconnected.

"Rude," Mia commented, rising from her seat. She didn't like working within the system; too many loops to jump and _way _too much corruption for her liking (or ideals, you know.) But this seemed fishy. She wasn't so important that SHIELD should be concerned if her life was in danger, which meant only one thing: they weren't concerned about the threat to her life, but who had made it.

True to Agent Coulson's word, a black SHIELD vehicle pulled up five minutes later as Mia stood with her brown trench coat and black scarf wound warmly around her. The blustery fall weather buffeted her from the left side, whipping a few strands of hair into her eyes.

The rear car door popped open, and look who was inside?

"Miss Paxton," said Phil Coulson, with that grimacing smile of his. "Sorry about the sudden disturbance; I assure you it's necessary."

"No problem," said Mia sarcastically, stepping down and taking a seat next to him. The door closed with a heavy thud and pulled away from the curb.

Luckily, the car was much warmer than the weather. "So where are we going?" she asked. "Oh no what, let me guess: Stark Tower. Agent Fury hasn't forgiven me for slighting Stark in that article–even though Stark himself has. We're even buddies now! Pepper and I had lunch yesterday."

"I know," Coulson said with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But Stark Tower isn't safe enough a location."

"And what is?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he confessed. "And…" he hesitated briefly. "I'm sorry for this."

"Crap," Mia breathed, seeing his look. "Coulson, don't you DARE use that trial sedative on…" She felt a sharp prick in her right arm. "…me."

The last thing she saw was Coulson giving her an apologetic look as the car faded away to blackness.

. . .

Mia awoke to a strange, low buzzing noise.

She was lying in a Spartan, grey adorned bedroom, her messenger bag set carefully on a chair in a corner. On a table next to the small, twin sized bed was a tablet–not her own, which she'd gotten as a gift from Tony; this looked like SHIELD property.

She sat up a bit stiffly to find she was still in her coat and scarf. Finding them unnecessary in the climate controlled room she was in, she pulled them off and tossed them across to the chair. Then, tossing her hair irritably at the thought of Coulson's uncouth tranquilization of her person without consent, she swiped a finger over the tablet device to unlock it. Given from the light streaming in through the window, it was early morning of the next day.

A video of Nick Fury immediately sprang to life. "Miss Paxton," he said nodding at the camera. "This is a prerecorded message that will be delivered to you as soon as you're conscious."

Mia snorted contemptuously. "I could totally sue for that," she quipped.

"You won't," Fury said confidently, as if responding to her. Mia raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Yeah, I knew you would make some sarcastic remark about your rights as a civilian." His face grew horribly serious. "Unfortunately, the rights of the world may be at stake, if that makes you feel any better."

This sobered her up. Given her lie detecting skills, Mia could tell at once he was being completely truthful–besides, this supported her previous theory of some sort of threat.

"SHIELD is currently at security level seven. I'll leave it up to Stark to explain the details to you."

"Oh, goody. I don't mind seeing old Ironhead again. Although, given the fact he gets to lecture…" Mia shuddered. "This may get ugly."

"You'll find him in the laboratory. And _DO NOT_ wander, Miss Paxton! I know you're always eager to find fuel for your stories, but now is HARDLY the time." Director Fury glared at the screen before the camera shut off.

"Hmm." Mia said thoughtfully, before rising and saying, "Game on, then."

Leaving everything behind except her tablet (NOT the one Fury had given her,) Mia stepped out of her sparsely decorated room and into an equally sparse hallway lined with doors similar to her own. She turned on the device and allowed its tracking systems to give her an overlay of the craft she was on (decidedly craft, as the floors were emitting a faint vibration that could only be attributed to engines.) She found that she was on some kind of immense air carrier, about a mile above sea level which probably meant they (rather aptly) had some kind of shielding device.

"Illegal observation, Fury," she muttered, following the coordinates to the lab, "didn't even have to look for trouble, when it's right beneath my feet."

Finally, after going down two levels and through countless corridors, she finally reached the correct door, slowing down so that her oxfords wouldn't give her away. Mia saw Tony deep in conversation with a woman sporting cropped read hair that was immaculately styled. Mia immediately felt self conscious, in her deep green dress that suddenly seemed so girly. The woman was rocking her jumpsuit, body glove thing, and Mia the Anarchist looked like an eleven year old. Fabulous.

"Natasha, relax," Tony was saying, while unpacking some interesting looking gadgets. "She's a political journalist, not a ninja spy woman like you." The woman glared at him. "You get the point. In fact, if SHIELD is that concerned for her safety that they would jeopardize their public image by letting Mia Paxton on board their top secret base, then there really must be something to that message." He laughed as he said her name. Mia Paxton. Apparently, the idea was completely ludicrous when she was involved. This was a good enough ego boost for her.

"My thoughts exactly," Mia said, stepping into the room. The woman's hand went for her gun, but the journalist didn't even flinch. "Stark's got a point on the ninja thing. My words aren't dangerous–well…"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Speak of the devil."

"Oi!" Mia back handed him. "I gave you a _glowing_ review on your energy initiative, so can it."

"Take it easy, cat eyes!" Tony laughed, and Mia scowled, seeing how Pepper's pet name had carried over to her unofficial boyfriend/boss. "I didn't mean anything by it. How much of that conversation did you hear, anyway?"

"Enough," Mia admitted, "though not all of it. But I agree with you: SHIELD must have some ulterior motive to bringing me aboard a vessel like this. Just walking down the hall gave me enough writing material for a month. I mean, did you see those drones they have parked in hangar B7? Holy geez. Not to mention this level of technology, which they are clearly keeping from the public. Normally that's something I'd convict you of, Tony."

Stark shrugged. "True enough," he said, fiddling with some dials on a device as he powered it up. "Boys and their toys, etcetera etcetera. Have you met agent Romanoff?" He gestured to the other woman. Mia raised an eyebrow.

"Natasha Romanoff?" she asked interestedly. The woman threw a look at Stark before admitting to her identity.

"Yes." She held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Paxton. A couple of your articles actually helped in the capture of a few of my old enemies–without my having to be involved." She gave a terse smile. "Thank you."

To Natasha's surprise, Mia grinned at this. "Glad to know it helped someone; usually it kinda works the other way." She looked around at the room. "And don't worry guys: for the duration of our stint on this ship-thing, I'll keep my research on…other things. Not the people I'm working with."

"Works for me," Stark agreed, and the woman nodded. She put a hand to her ear, as if listening, and muttered a short reply. "I'm needed on the bridge," she announced. "If you'll excuse me." She nodded at both Stark and Paxton, and left.

"Well, she reinvents the term standoffish," Mia announced. "I thought I was bad when I'm not working. I know she has her reasons, but…wow."

"Don't worry, she makes me feel like a lesser woman, too."

Mia looked at the man in shock for a moment, and snickered. "Touché."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, well. I don't think we've seen the worst of the standoffishness, either. According to Fury, he's got Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner en route as we speak." He was staring hard at the screen but Mia caught a distinct note of disdain as he said 'Captain Rogers'.

Mia's eyes widened. "You mean Captain America and the Hulk?"

"Try not to fan-girl," Tony said with an eye roll at her reaction.

"It's not _that_," she said irritably, starting to pace the room. "It's the fact that he's bringing both of them…and he's already got you and the Black Widow herself in house. What could possibly be that bad?"

"So you don't know what's going on." Tony said dubiously. "This _may_ be a first."

"Fury left a note," said Mia, making a face. "Saying I should come to you for information."

Stark sighed. "He would."

"You're sighing? I'm the one who has to listen to another of your 'presentations'. At least this one doesn't have slides."

"Hey! My presentations are good!" Tony objected.

"Yeah, if we were in high school science class, complete with rickety chairs and annoying people throwing spitballs," Mia scoffed, crossing her arms.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. "Alright," he muttered. "I see how it is." He pulled out a device that kind of resembled a projector–that is, if a small black cube could look like a projector. "Check out my new pet project." He pressed the top of the box, and immediately the room around them was turned into a 360° degree, 4D hologram computer.

Mia said nothing for a moment, eyeing the room skeptically. "Is this safe?"

"Of course it's safe," Tony scoffed, moving some icons and files around. "It's a computer."

"You know what I mean."

"No, it hasn't been board approved yet," said Tony wearily.

After a moment of hesitation (during which Stark was bracing himself for a lecture,) Mia touched the screen herself, moving a news tab to a position in front of her for better reading. "Awesome."

Though moderately surprised at the anarchist's sudden (and unexpected) approval, Tony decided not to let it show; and to reply in that language they both spoke so well: sarcasm. "What, is the 'justice police' so easily swayed now?"

"Shut up and give me the rundown, Stark," Mia said, watching as the news feed displayed an article about President Winters. She quickly closed the tab, scowling. "Better yet, pull up the information and I'll draw my own conclusions."

"As you wish," Stark said with a dismissive shrug.

He then proceeded to display all of the information he had regarding their current situation. It took a good twenty minutes for Mia to work through it all.

"So this 'Loki' guy," Mia said, narrowing her eyes at his image on the screen, "is trying to take the Tesseract and use it for…what exactly?"

"We don't know yet," Tony admitted. "Hopefully when Dr. Banner gets here he might have some speculations of his own. The only real expert on the Tesseract, Dr. Erik Selvig, was taken along with the cube; so that kind of leaves us in the dark. According to _my_ information, SHIELD was trying to use it as a sustainable energy source."

"Yeah, well." Mia pulled up a photo of the Tesseract onscreen. "My information says otherwise."

Stark knew that Mia, as a political vulture, had access to some of the best sources available; the fact that she was well received in print ensured that those leads she received weren't dead ends. He was about to ask just what those leads were, when an agent came in.

"Miss Paxton is required on the bridge," the agent said shortly, before walking away to a post a little ways down the hall.

Mia gave Tony a confused look. Tony himself looked surprised, but merely turned off the black cube and said, "Well, go on. Do that thing that you do, with the innocent persuasive behavior and lie detecting. Find out what SHIELD really wants with a political anarchist, and ah...let me know." He winked at her, nudging her with a shoulder as her handed her a laminated card. It was a security pass, level seven clearance. He was giving her the go-ahead to snoop. _The cheeky bastard,_ she thought with a smirk, but she took it from him and slipped it into her dress pocket.

Mia rolled her eyes, but picked up her tablet device off the table and followed the agent out of the lab. "Will do, Ironhead."

"What did I say about that?!"

"Back atcha!" she called back sassily. "'Cat eyes'?"

Tony groaned.

Mia chuckled to herself. Vengeance was sweet.

Out in the ship's hallways, they passed countless agents dressed in grey uniforMiss Even Stark had been dressed in black and grey, making Mia wish she had opted for something a little less colorful. On their way up a staircase, the entire ship jolted, Mia falling against a wall painfully. "What was that?" she asked, seeing the agent looking rather unaffected. A strange sense of vertigo settled in her stomach. "Take off," the agent said simply, and

When they made it to the bridge, the feeling only increased. The entire ship was sleek and metallic, but the bridge was clearly the pride of the vessel.

There, she saw Director Fury standing proudly, gazing out of the window as the ship rose out of the ocean, its engines revealed. The 'ship' was an air carrier.

"Wow." She said flatly, but still a bit impressed. "This now tops my list for best kept secret in America."

"Miss Paxton," Fury acknowledged her without turning around; however, two other men did, as did agent Romanoff. "I assume you have been brought up to speed?"

Noting how he didn't name Stark as the one who had told her, Mia nodded. "Yes, as much as can be expected–though, why you'd want me to know about your organization's inner turmoil escapes me."

"Loki is a threat to more than just SHIELD," Fury said harshly. "His target is world domination, and as someone who works with egotistical power hungry liars for a living, I figured you input would be valuable." He turned to give her that one eyed stare down that probably made lesser men cry.

Mia didn't flinch; she merely clasped her tablet behind her back and blinked calmly at him. "That seems logical. However, a teleconference could have accomplished that much."

"Indeed." He left the console and came down to stand with the others. "Miss Paxton, this is Captain Steve Rogers, and Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Ma'am," said Captain Rogers, and shook her hand. Then, for some reason, he gave Fury a ten dollar bill.

"Captain," Mia said politely, refusing to go all googly eyed in front of one of America's greatest heroes. Rogers seemed surprised by her professionalism, but said nothing more.

"Miss Paxton."

"Dr. Banner, it's a pleasure," Mia said, also shaking his hand. "You wrecking up Harlem actually chased out a few operations that had been running underground in the slums for awhile. Thank you for that."

"Oh." Banner seemed taken aback. "At least something good came of it." He gave a small smile before turning to Fury. "So how long are we staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind," he told the scientist.

"And just how close are you to recovering it?" Mia asked curiously.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet," agent Coulson said from below the deck they were standing on.

"Invasion of personal privacy," Mia muttered loudly enough for others to hear her.

Coulson went on. "Cell phones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"You," Mia said, glaring at the agent. Coulson gave her an apologetic smile. When she didn't back down though, he got jumpy. "What?! I already apologized!"

"Yeah, before you injected me with an anesthetic serum that is still in its trial stages of testing!"

"Agent Coulson was only following his orders," Fury defended the man.

Mia snorted. "Well, it's nice to know you're the one who okayed that bit of infringement."

"That's still not going to find them in time," Romanoff said, redirecting the conversation away from the stare-down Fury and Paxton were having and back to the real problem.

"You have to narrow your field," Banner agreed. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" Fury stated hypothetically, crossing his arms and looking away from he woman. Mia beamed in triumph. Agent Romanoff looked flabbergasted. Did that journalist just outstare Nick Fury?

"Call every lab you know," Banner told Coulson. "Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places." He looked to Fury, rolling up his sleeves in a business-like manner. "Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

Fury nodded. "Agent Romanoff? Could you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please?"

"You're gonna love it, Doc," Romanoff said smoothly, escorting the man from the room. "We've got all the toys."

"Just don't touch Tony's stuff, or he'll be seriously miffed!" Mia called after them.

"Duly noted," Banner said, giving her another of his small smiles. Mia smiled back. He seemed like a really sweet guy, actually; if not a little troubled. But then, who in their group wasn't?

"Tony?" Captain Rogers asked, sounding a little…jealous? Was that it? Maybe it was just confusion.

"Yes. Tony Stark is a…an acquaintance of mine," Mia said carefully. "I'm friends with his assistant, Pepper."

"I see." For once, Mia had trouble telling if the man was suspicious of her or merely wary of whom–and what–she was. Coming from him, she didn't really care. It wasn't personal; she just had a few issues with what he stood for.

Fury then got distracted talking to the man, while Mia looked around the bridge appreciatively. The structure and technology was definitely impressive, to say the least; it shouldn't have been allowed without public consent. But Mia knew better than most that the government and any organization powerful to hold levy within that bracket didn't ask for the approval of the masses when it came to special ops.

Finally, her eyes fell on a tall figure monitoring the activity of the data imputers in the room. It was a familiar face.

"Maria?" Mia walked up to the woman and nudged her gently. The agent had been bent over some other agent's shoulder, instructing on how to run a certain scan according to SHIELD protocol. When she heard the journalist's voice, however, she turned around and broke into an uncharacteristic smile.

"Mia! Oh my god!" With a laugh, the two hugged mid-bridge. "I haven't seen you in what, two years?"

"Two years," Mia agreed. "Not since the Markson-Regent occurrence."

"You two know each other?" Fury came up behind them, sounding a bit taken aback.

Suddenly, Maria was all business. "Yes sir. Miss Paxton and I worked together on a few cases awhile ago, back when I was still working for the Bureau."

"Good," said Fury, sounding too pleased for Mia's liking. "Good to see old friends reunited." He paused. "Agent Hill, will you please escort Miss Paxton to her quarters? And give her access to all files regarding the Tesseract and Loki; I know Stark told you what he knew, but I would prefer for you to look over all the material for yourself."

Mia didn't bother protesting that she'd already done so; having files willingly handed to her was a rare occurrence, and who knew? Maybe she had missed something important. Already it seemed like something wasn't adding up; especially about this Loki person. Why did that name seem so familiar? She needed to do her own research.

"Absolutely, I'd be glad to."

Director Fury watched the journalist leave with agent Hill, concerned. He turned and walked to the edge of the balcony. "Coulson."

"Yes sir?" Coulson looked up, surprised.

"Are you sure it's her? She's definitely the one?"

"Yes sir," said Coulson firmly. "100 percent DNA match. She's the girl."

"Good," Fury said again, watching the hallway the woman had left down. "Then let's keep her interested." He pulled a strip of newspaper from his pocket, scanning the headline ponderously.

When the time came, this could be very helpful indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

This made no sense. No sense whatsoever.

How could Thanos possibly know the location of his Intended before he himself did? The very idea was preposterous.

And yet…

The gleam that had festered in the eye of the Other had been so full of malicious confidence, so completely sure of the threat he offered that it was almost certainly true.

Stranger things had happened. No doubt stranger things would. But what Loki couldn't understand was how, after all of the ridiculous fawning he had seen his oafish bro–no, Thor, had put himself through over a mortal; after all of the unnecessary meaningless people he had himself killed to further his cause, after a thousand years of assuring himself that he need pay no mind to the trifling prediction Heimdall had made in his youth, that no mortal was worth the price he would have to pay…how was it that after all of this he was still intrigued by the idea? However faintly.

A mortal? A human, his queen? Certainly not willingly.

What sentimental nonsense; what bilge-infested bedtime story did Heimdall and Odin really think his life would become? Knowing all the while (as they always had) that he was not even of Asgard; that he was an accursed Frost Giant, loathsome and putrescent, repulsive to all who looked upon them? That the form he had taken as an Asgardian in his infancy was a mere subterfuge, a deceptive trick concocted subconsciously to save him from destruction? And still they had lied, offered him something cheap and fleeting as recompense for the losses he would endure.

How could any such situation not end in heartbreak? He had been bound as a witless child to a woman who would die in a handful of years. Surely this was yet another trick on Odin's part, another scourge placed upon him to remind him of his true place in the All-father's court: beneath everyone else's feet.

Loki hissed in irritation, the sting of pain from the Other's touch still lingering on his face. He had other, better things to concern himself with. Soon he would stand as ruler over the Earth–it's _only_ ruler. Until then, he had much to do to prepare for the glorious days to come.

Soon, the Tesseract would be ready. He would summon his army, and claim a throne–a world– for himself, as payment for that which he had lost. And he would not need the love or affections of a mere mortal to console him. He would be above them all, as he ought.

Then, what would it matter, the fate of his Intended?

It would just become another unnecessary weight he had shed in his rise to power.

. . .

It had been a solid four hours since agent Hill had taken Mia to her room. Four hours was plenty of time for her to piece together what was bothering her, what wasn't fitting in the picture correctly.

Mia had known, of course, as soon as Stark had shown her the information he had on the Tesseract project. She had been playing stupid to see what he knew; which appeared to be less than she did. It was a covert op, and Mia shouldn't have known about it in the first place if it weren't for Hill. Not that she would ever tell anyone at SHIELD that: the agent's 'cover story' was real, they had worked together before. That just hadn't stopped once she'd joined SHIELD.

Phase 2 went against everything SHIELD 'supposedly' stood for, which didn't surprise the anarchist at all. But creating weapons from the Tesseract (if what Hill told her was entirely accurate) was horribly risky. From reading Selvig's Extraction Papers, the scientist clearly hadn't even figured out how to properly harness the Tesseract's energy, let alone control it or manipulate it. The entire project was a case of putting the cart before the horse, and if SHIELD's history was any kind of gauge to the stupid ends they would go to before admitting they were wrong, it could put a lot of people in danger. Indeed, it already had: Loki being the prime example of their failure to protect the masses.

Loki had clearly come for the Tesseract: that much was obvious. But what he meant to do with it was unclear. Even SHIELD's resident irregular psychologists seemed to be at a loss, unable to explain his motives or predict his next move; which gave the man a lot of wiggle room for error.

Or was he even a 'man', by conventional standards? Mia chuckled at the thought as she sent out tendrils of golden smoke from her right hand, levitating her messenger bag from the chair onto the floor where she sat. 'Humanity' as a term was being reinvented every day, in part by the very people she was working with. While Dr. Banner's "Hulk" alter-ego couldn't be called human by conventional standards, his normal, non-mutated form clearly was, posing all sorts of rhetorical questions about the nature of the 'standard form' that humans always reverted to. Was it a base to build up from, or a failsafe? These weren't really questions for a political journalist to be asking, as it was more scientific then politics: but her study of Loki had brought up questions that she had jotted down for future analyzing. Not to mention, her own personal anomalies.

'Loki' was apparently a figure (god, really) from Norse mythology. Mia as a rule disapproved of such kinds of stories, whether of cultural significance or not. However, the proof wasn't in Loki himself (whom only a handful of people had even seen so far, and while under duress) but in his brother, Thor.

Thor had been the piece of the puzzle that finally made everything fit together. Apparently, the demigod had paid a visit to Earth the year before, supposedly 'banished' from his own kingdom of 'Asgard'. Mia still thought it completely phony (most of the pictures SHIELD had taken of the man looked photoshopped. A flying, anti-gravitational hammer? Seriously? And while the man was impressively tall, strong and good looking, his armor looked like it had come from the nearest cosplay retailer–it wasn't exactly convincing.) Mia thought of how Jane would have one of her 'field days' if she'd seen something like that…and then it hit her.

New Mexico. All of this had taken place in New Mexico, _a year before._

Jane had…been involved?

There were photos to prove this theory true. Finally, it all made sense! Darcy's comments about how Jane was moping over a guy (which hadn't made any sense at the time) now were perfectly logical. So _that _was why Jane didn't like to talk about it: she had fallen for a god, who had then returned to his own planet after the fighting was done and hadn't returned.

Yikes.

If he were around, Mia would have punched him for upsetting her best friend. Then, thinking how that wouldn't really hurt him much, she decided she would have blasted him with her 'magic'.

Mia stared at her hand, watching the golden strands of sparks swirl in her palm. She had never understood why she had this strange ability; even her parents had been at a loss to explain it. No one in her family had shown any such ability before. It wasn't just show, either: Mia literally had the ability to manipulate matter. As a child, she hadn't cared for toys, preferring to practice creating things out of her 'magic', as she'd dubbed it at age three. So many scientists and doctors had come to observe her, like a test subject in her own home.

"It's completely beyond me," one of the better ones had said. "The girl displays abilities that shouldn't be physically possible. This 'golden matter' of hers is completely under her influence. It shouldn't even exist, yet there it is. It is a fact: an improbable, impossible yet completely undeniable fact."

She had learned from a young age that such things were not acceptable, and her parents had restricted her contact with the outside world in an attempt to keep her 'anomaly' a secret. Of course such perfection was necessary, considering who they were…

Mia scowled at the thought of her parents. They were her biggest, best kept secret, even considering her 'condition'. She had gotten away from them, created her own life…but still she harbored that fear of who she was, what she was. A fear she saw echoed in the equally strange people around her. They were afraid of themselves, to some degree; and while Mia was perfectly comfortable with her 'magic' in private, she had mentally conditioned herself to forget it existed while around others. The thought of using it in front of others was still a complete impossibility in her mind. She never stopped to consider why.

According to the internet, 'Loki' was the god of Mischief in the Nordic pantheon. Fantastic; the world was being taken over by a prankster. Still Mia couldn't understand why. She spent a good amount of time reading everything she could about him and his family, the royalty of a place called 'Asgard'. Okay, that proved that the guy posing as Thor had done his research. In short, it didn't prove anything.

The legends surrounding these god figures were absolutely ridiculous. The 'Asgardians' were nearly perfect, living in a utopian society modeled on Nordic culture and traditions. The utopian aspect was somewhat dimmed, however, by the constant power struggle between Loki and his brother Thor. Apparently the two were complete opposites of each other: Thor was golden and perfect, the ideal Asgardian warrior (and prince,) while Loki was sinister, spiteful, and in fact, rather ugly. Most renditions of him portrayed a creepy, unsettling red-haired jester who was spindly and downright evil looking: stereotypical villain archetype.

Strangely, Mia found no images related to the man in the records agent Hill had given her access to on her tablet. All of the security footage (from what Mia could only assume was yet another top secret base) had been edited: they had blurred over his face, though from what she could tell he wasn't as spindly as she would have guessed. Thin, but the video quality was too poor to see much else. He was carrying a long spear that had an inset which seemed to glow the same shade of blue as the Tesseract. Mia suspected it drew from the cube as a power source–a successful one, which was more than SHIELD had managed to make. No doubt they wanted to get their hands on that for the Phase 2 program.

Back on the topic of Loki, he definitely lived up to the stereotype–at least on the page. According to myth he was married to some Asgardian woman named Sigyn, and was the father of 1. The embodiment of Hell (apparently a woman called Hel), 2. A wolf, 3. A serpent, and the _mother_ of an eight legged horse. Frankly, she really didn't want to know how much of that was true. Having worked with enough politicians to know that way more than half of their back-story is usually lies, Mia figured that and eighth of all that was probably fact–however, that did leave the possibility that he had parented some unlikely creature in the past, which was more than offsetting.

"Talk about a kinky weirdo," Mia muttered, scrolling through yet another page crowded with Nordic names and places of myth. She didn't like to think what might happen if he was let loose on the world as its unchallenged ruler. "Still, I've seen worse."

Since he had escaped from the base where the Tesseract had been housed (and most of Phase 2, Mia figured grimly,) Loki's whereabouts were unknown. She knew from the conversation on the bridge that they were tracking him down as she worked, but she could only hope that they found him before he subjected any innocents to his trickery, or violence.

So, Mia arranged the facts in her mind: Phase 2 had been (discouragingly) relocated, SHIELD had no idea where Loki was and appeared to be preparing a small task force of heroes to fight it's battles, should worse come to worse. And, for some reason other than insight, they needed her. This set Mia on edge: they couldn't know about her 'magic', could they? Or her other secret?

As she was fretting over the details she couldn't seem to narrow down, a knock rang on her door.

"Come in."

An unidentified agent poked her head in. "Miss Paxton?"

"The one and only," Mia replied dryly, shifting her half asleep legs to one side. "What can I do for you?"

"Director Fury sent me to inform you that Loki has been located."

Mia sat up straighter. "Already? Cripes."

"He'd like your presence on the bridge immediately." The agent said, and went out quickly.

"They're all about manners around here, aren't they?" Mia groused, shaking out her sleepy legs as she rose shakily onto her oxfords. "Well, duty calls." She scowled, hating the idea of being employed by the government.

Mia found her way to the bridge with relative ease, having been led there twice already. It was located in the forepart of the ship, unlike most bridges, so it was simply a matter of walking in the right direction until you ran into it. When she arrived, she found agent Hill and Fury standing at the console together, talking. Fury looked up when he saw her approaching, and gave her a grim smile. That was unnerving. Then Hill turned around, looking vaguely put out.

"Miss Paxton," Fury said. "Have you had enough time to bring yourself up to speed?"

"As much as can be expected, given the circumstances; yes." Mia nodded briskly and clasped her tablet before her in an efficient way. "I won't be able to create any conclusive theories until I can interact with Loki face to face."

"That can be arranged," said Fury, watching her closely for any signs of excitement. He had heard that journalists of her type often got excited at the prospect of working with a dangerous client–in a way that could interfere with their performance. Luckily, the look on Mia Paxton's face was one of gravity and decorum, not eager anticipation. Clearly she saw the man for what he was: a dangerous criminal, not an interesting specimen to poke and prod like the psychologists wanted to. That was the reason Fury had sent them away, and allowed an anarchist of all people on-board his top secret vessel. He could do with skepticism instead of scientific inquiry.

"Good." Mia was glad the Director had granted her access so quickly; she had been expecting to have to persuade him. This saved time. "Where is he currently located?" She asked, taking a step closer to the console.

Fury waved her over, and pointed to a screen. "Stuttgart, Germany."

"Twenty eight Konigstrasse," Mia read aloud, and cocked her head. "An art museum. Interesting." She quickly searched the internet for events at that location. "An exposition on the Nordic-Germanic period, with artifacts on loan from the Hague. Dr. Heinrich Schāfer will give a presentation on the historical significance of this period." She rolled her eyes. "How lovely for the demigod's ego."

"Captain Rogers and agent Romanoff are already en-route to his location," Fury explained.

Mia scoffed at the thought of the soldier. "You're sending _him_ in, alone?"

Fury raised an eyebrow at her. "What, you doubt the Captain's performance ability?"

"After being encased in an ice cube for seventy years with no gym nearby, yeah. A little."

"And just what is it that you propose I do?" Fury said, getting his irritated tone on that made nearly every agent in the room look up in alarm.

Mia stared at him, unaffected. "Send in Ironhead as back up. Just in case. If I'm wrong, it doesn't hurt. But if I'm right…" Mia shrugged. "Besides, I suppose Romanoff will be running air reconnaissance and won't be on the ground at all, correct?" She sighed. "I'm just saying: this guy is a trickster:_ the_ trickster. You'll want to have all of your bases covered. Think of the populace."

The agent's watched spellbound as Fury deliberated. "That's not a bad idea, Paxton," he said finally, and spoke into his earpiece, telling someone to get a hold of Stark and give him the go ahead. The room returned to its normal hum of activity, but Mia didn't miss the awestruck looks she received: she had just convinced Nick Fury to change his mind.

"It'll take an hour or so for the plane to arrive," Agent Hill told her. "Perhaps you'd like me to show you the mess hall?"

Mia suddenly realized how hungry she was. "Yeah I'm kinda running on a cup of coffee and a few bites of cereal…my breakfast was interrupted." She glared over at Coulson, who shook his head and turned away, grinning. It was only really banter at this point anyway. "Lunch would be good."

The mess hall had surprisingly good food. Mia ordered herself a gardenburger with fries and sat down next to Hall, who was actually on break for a few minutes–a miracle, given her extremely busy schedule.

"You don't seem to be too concerned about capturing Loki," Maria mused, training her steely blue eyes on Mia's face. "In fact, you seem to be taking this whole thing in stride: gods and heroes, the whole top secret base deal."

"Well, it's not exactly like I didn't know they existed," said Mia, giving the agent a pointed look. "Well–minus the god part. That was unexpected, but certainly not surprising. In my line of work, you see pretty much everything. I'm sure you understand the feeling."

Agent Hill nodded, and sipped her diet soda quietly. "Phase 2 was relocated, after the attack," she told the noshing journalist after a while.

"I know," Mia said, and finished her bite of burger before continuing. "I gathered as much. That project would be kept as close to the Tesseract as possible, so…" she shrugged. "It made sense."

"It's on board."

Mia looked up abruptly. "I'm sorry?"

"Phase 2. All of the gear was moved onboard the helicarrier. It's all on this ship, in secure storage."

Mia considered this, while eying her fries. Something wasn't sitting right with her. "Well that's good to know." She tried to rein in her swirling thoughts, follow them to the source of the problem. She reached for the glass bottle of ketchup, and set her hand on the lid. Golden sparks shot out from the metal cap, like static electricity. Hill jumped.

"Sorry…that's weird," Mia said, frowning thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that is weird. This entire ship is grounded, because of the equipment. Shouldn't be able to conduct like that…" the agent eyed the bottle suspiciously.

"No, not that," Mia corrected. "I mean, yeah that's a little strange. But I mean, why a museum? What is it he wants there?" She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "Everything Loki's done so far has had a sound logic behind it. So what's his angle? What does he need that a museum has to offer?" She thought back on all of the details she had read over the past few hours. Some part of his plan was still incomplete…

Agent Hill looked disturbed. "That's actually a really good point."

Then, it hit her. "Holy geez," Mia breathed, standing up in a hurry.

"What? What is it?!" Agent Hill demanded, seeing the woman's horrified face.

"We've got eyes on Loki," Mia said, keeping her voice down so as not to attract attention from the other agents in the room, "so what's the rest of his crew doing?"

Agent Hill (rather unbelievably) paled.

"And what's the main thing, what the lynchpin of his plan?" Mia clenched her fists tightly to stop her 'magic' from getting away from her in her state of agitation.

"The Tesseract?"

"Exactly." Mia got up from the table, abandoning her lunch. "Tell Fury: he's there for the Iridium. His men are probably breaking in as we speak."

"Director Fury, Miss Paxton has had a breakthrough," Hill relayed as she stood there, one hand to her ear. "She told me to tell you, Loki is after the Iridium." There was a pause. Hill looked up at Mia, who had been waiting tensely. The agent looked grim. "We're needed on the bridge."

. . .

Mia was still plenty angry as footage from a traffic camera was streaming across the screen of a room just off of the bridge. She sat at a table, watching the people from the museum rush out into the streets, running from the horrible sight they had just seen. Loki had just taken out a man's eye with a strange device, at the exact same moment the building's security protocols were overridden. Fury had informed her that by the time agents had arrived on scene, the crew and the Iridium were long gone.

Loki, however, like any power hungry politician, was eager to show off for the crowd…or was it himself?

Already he had blown up a police vehicle with a blue bolt from his staff, corralled a large group of people in the plaza outside of the museum, and somehow cloned himself to intimidate them and keep them from running away. He was dressed in what Mia could only assume was full Asgardian battle armor, an outlandishly large helmet adorned with huge horns on his head. He was cocky as all get out, emanating a regal, overbearing yet dangerous air that Mia could feel even over the camera.

Still, the camera quality was so poor that she couldn't make out the man's face. It was rather apparent though, that he didn't have fiery red hair. But the situation was making Mia very uncomfortable.

"This is a blatant defiance: a demonstration of power," she told Fury. "He's making a point: he will have his way, and he will take it by force. Those people are _all_in danger; he won't hesitate to kill them to further his cause."

"Tell me something I don't know!" Fury snapped, though it did make him feel better about what he was doing to stop the maniacal god to hear it from an expert.

"Those people are _not_ collateral!" Mia cried, pointing angrily at the screen. "They just saw someone murdered before their eyes; they're scared, and they don't know what's going on. You need to get them out of there, NOW!"

"We're doing what we can, Miss Paxton," Agent Coulson reassured her, walking into the room. "Sir, the bird is in place. We're ready for the drop."

"Good. Tell Rogers it's a go, then have Romanoff scramble to location; we have civilians in a hostile situation, we need to clear them out!" he ordered into his ear piece. Mia felt slightly better–until she saw Loki step down into the mass of frightened people.

"What is he doing?" she whispered, green eyes narrowed in confusion as she watched him gesturing in a grandiose manner with his hands. "Lecturing…giving a speech," she realized. "About what? He doesn't need to convince them to take over the world. What's the point of this?" She watched him carefully, her breath catching in her throat as an old man rose from his knees, defying the god. She wished wholeheartedly that she could hear what they were saying. She could see from the tilt of Loki's head alone that he was giving a sassy one-liner. Then he was raising his staff, pointing it at the man…

"Oh god," Mia said, and slammed on the communication console. "Rogers, get _in there!"_

Fury looked extremely miffed at this breach of authority; however, Mia was too busy being relieved. No sooner had she spoken that Captain Rogers jumped into the frame, him and his vibranium shield protecting the elderly man from a bolt of blue energy from Loki's spear. "Copy that, Paxton," he replied in the COMM, and Mia let out her breath in relief.

"Thanks, Captain," she said appreciatively. She liked the man a little better now. When she thought about it, she liked Steve Rogers; and the hero he was while in spandex; just not that he had to wear the star spangled every time he became that hero.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing." The line remained open; and even though Fury was glaring daggers at Mia for her insolence, he made no move to shut the device off.

"The soldier," said a contemptuous voice that Mia could only assume was Loki. She had seen him get struck by the rebounding bolt, and now he was rising to his feet. A sardonic if breathless laugh came through the speaker. "The man out of time."

"I'm not the only who's out of time," Rogers explained flatly, a loud rushing sound filling the speaker momentarily before agent Romanoff's voice cut over the crowd on a loudspeaker. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," she ordered.

"Yeah, like that'll work," Mia muttered quietly. Fury, who had stopped glaring a while ago, shot a glance in her direction. "What? It's not exactly his MO to just surrender."

As if to prove her point, Loki fired a bolt out of the frame, towards what Mia could only assume was the plane. Rogers then took it upon himself to throw his shield at Loki; it literally bounced off of the man and returned to its owner.

What followed could only be described as an embarrassing (if not well intended) fight. It basically entailed the American symbol getting pummeled rather unimpressively in front of the German population. The only good thing about it was that the people managed to run away during the encounter. "The guy's all over the place," Romanoff commented worriedly. Mia shot Fury an 'I told you so' look.

"Hey, at least the speech was good," Mia said cheerily.

"I heard that," said the Captain, sounding strained but annoyed.

"Eyes on the prize, Captain!" Mia called, deflecting in an uplifting way.

"Agent Romanoff," said a familiar and dryly sarcastic voice over the intercom. "Miss me?" In typical Tony fashion, AC/DC began playing over the audio.

"Tony baloney." Mia was beaming now. As much as she and Stark bickered and jibbed each other, she had full confidence in the guy, especially when in his metal suit.

"Paxton." Stark sounded pleasantly surprised. "This was your idea, wasn't it."

"Not gonna lie, Stark." Mia smiled. "Now help Cap kick Loki's self righteous ass. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude and power trip have really pissed me off."

"Anything for the resident anarchist," Tony said, as two golden beams shot Loki square in the chest, knocking him backward onto some low steps. He landed in the picture a moment later, pointing as many weapons as possible at the god. "Make a move, Reindeer Games." Rogers came to stand beside him, panting.

Slowly, reluctantly, and probably with a great deal of ego bruising (the very thought of which made Mia very happy,) Loki raised both of his hands, his armor disappearing.

Mia gave a cheer and punched Coulson in the arm in a friendly way. He looked surprised for a moment before giving her a genuine smile. Even Fury looked a little relieved.

"Good move," Stark, commented, before giving an acknowledging nod to the man beside him. "Captain."

"Mr. Stark," the Captain replied, equally stiff.

"Good work boys! Wooo!" Mia punched the air.

"Um, aren't anarchists supposed to be temperamental and demanding? I don't remember happiness being under that definition."

"Oh, shut it Stark, before I tell them all about what Pepper and I did to you with the orange juice."

A groan. "Would you stop bringing that up?"

"Sure; as soon as you haul his sorry hide back here, so I can have a go at him."

"It's a deal."

"Agent Romanoff, please remain in contact with the bridge. The _rest _of you, _get off the line,_" Fury ordered.

A chorus of "yes sir" rang through the speaker before the Director terminated the call. The camera cut out the transmission. Fury turned back to the small group in the alcove with him. "Coulson, make sure the cell is ready for his arrival. Hill, with me. Paxton…" He stared at the journalist for a moment, unsure what to tell her. Finally he settled on, "Prepare yourself for your turn with Loki."

It then hit Mia fully what she had just agreed to.

Oh, shit, she thought.

Taking on a self obsessed, psychopathic villain-god for a mental spat couldn't be too bad, could it?

Shit.


	4. NOTICE OF INTENT TO UPDATE SOON

**Hey guys! **

**I realize it's been a small eternity since I've updated this story, and since I've some how miraculously attracted 30 followers to this tiny 13k+ word beginning I thought I'd give you all an explanation for the uber long silence.**

**1. I pretty much lost motivation for this story for a while. I let my Marvel enthusiasm die out and it's taken me a long time to stoke the embers and get this baby burnin' again.**

**2. That being said, it's November, which equates to one, important thing: NaNoWriMo. That right guys, ****_Secrets of an Anarchist _****has become my NaNo novel. I'm pleased to announced I've passed the 35k+ mark on my NaNo word count, which DOES NOT include the 13k+ already posted here.**

**3. In addition to that, I've revamped a few minor details and developed my plot line enough that I've now got the makings of a series on my hands. Yup, I've really done it now. Oh well. This story started out as a plot dump for my Loki obsession, and has turned into something a lot more productive along the way. TA-DA *said with all the enthusiasm of Loki in Thor:TDW***

**4. I've also revamped the summary, pairings and genres of this story. It previously was a [Loki/OC], Supernatural/Romance fic. While it will keep those elements, it can be better described as what it's labeled as now: a [Loki/OC/Captain America-Steve Rogers] pairing with a lot of one-sided Loki angst and feels. Also, the backstory requires it to be labeled Supernatural/Drama. After all, Romance is usually a part of Drama and it is a triangle kind of situation we're going to see in the future. There will still be lots of Mia/Loki goodness though, fret not!**

**5. Mia herself. I've done my best to really make her a character worthy of the MCU. The actress best suited to play her is Stana Katic of ****_Castle_**** fame. There is a similarity in the personality (and even life story/history/past occupation) of Kate Beckett to Mia Paxton, but obviously not everything. Kate Beckett is a strong character and I have a lot of respect for her. That aside, Mia is not her carbon copy-more like a skewed image of the virtues and lifestyle she tries to lead. You'll see the parallels later on.**

**Okay whew. But there you have it! This story is not abandoned; far from it. Come the end of NaNoWriMo I will begin posting the chapters one at a time-including the chapters already posted here, which as I said have been slightly (but not dramatically) altered.**

**So if any of you are doing NaNoWriMo as well, feel free to as me as a writing buddy! My author name is ****_etiquette-faux-pas_**** on there too.**

**See you all post-November! **

**-Ana**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Mia decided the best place to prepare herself would be in the same room as the man who occasionally transformed into the Hulk. Believe it or not, he actually had an incredibly calming presence, and she figured a little Zen would be good before her 'encounter', as Fury had so ominously put it. He surprisingly didn't mind her company, as she was mostly quit and going through files on her Starkpad.

"So, Dr. Banner," Mia said casually, not looking up from her tablet as she sat on a counter that had previously been occupied by some of Tony Stark's random odds and ends. "Where were you before SHIELD uprooted you from your normal routine?"

Banner gave a clipped laugh. "Calcutta. Agent Romanoff was assigned to 'convince' me to assist SHIELD in this investigation. Didn't know I'd be forced to endure a madman with a plan."

Mia snorted. "Yeah, I get the feeling. I was actually taking a day off—for once—and guess who decided to swing by and pick me up?" She asked sarcastically. "Agent Coulson. This has been a really great few days. Getting roped into helping SHIELD, having to assess a crazy power hungry maniac egotist for threats and possible evil plans…oh wait, no. This is my job."

Banner chuckled. "I think you've got your work cut out for you."

"Well so do you," Mia said. "I mean, this whole thing is based around the Tesseract, and without Erik Selvig you're the only scientist who has a clue about that kind of technology. Plus, you know. Gamma rays."

"Thanks," Banner said with a bitter edge to his voice. "But I get the feeling that they might want me for…you know. The Other Guy. And they're just not saying so."

"That's SHIELD for you. They never give you the whole picture," said Mia doubtfully. This did nothing to assuage her or Banner's worries, and they fell into a depressed silence.

"What do you think his motives are?" Banner asked finally, while adjusting some settings on a hologram screen. He peered at her over the rims of his glasses. "Loki, that is. I know you can't say for sure until you've actually assessed the guy–or whatever it is you do–but I just wondered, from what you've seen…" He trailed off uncertainly.

Mia took a moment to choose her words carefully. "He's ruthless," she said slowly, "and cunning. He knows what he wants and won't stop until her gets it; whether it's power, or something to help him attain it. But…there's something else." She furrowed her brow and stared at her tablet in frustration. "I'm having a hard time placing it. It borders on obsession, this showboat need of his to attract attention. To make a statement. It's like he's trying to prove something to somebody, but I don't know who, or why. I don't have all the variables yet."

"I understand the feeling," Dr. Banner agreed. "Until I get my hands on something Tesseract related–say, that spear of Loki's–I'll be hard-pressed to draw any conclusions of my own. But that doesn't stop Fury from breathing down my neck." He shifted uncomfortably, as if the agent was watching him even then–which was very possibly true.

"Definitely mutual, then." Mia smiled at the man. Stark had been nearly right in his analysis of her anarchic nature; she only smiled or got excited when she really meant it, not just because it was the socially appropriate thing to do. Therefore, the smile she gave Dr. Banner was completely genuine, and it did help settle his frazzled nerves a bit.

He went back to work, unpacking various equipments from silver cases that had been waiting for him (she figured, since Tony hadn't touched them.) That is, until a group of guards began to parade past the windows of the lab. Mia immediately got off the desk, moving towards the middle of the room and subconsciously towards Banner. She thought it would be safer to be near a good monster rather than a wicked one–and yes, there was a difference.

She stood, gazing with her best stoic yet anarchical expression on her face, fighting back the intense curiosity she felt washing over her. Knowing it was risky considering that Banner was right there, Mia went against her usual rule and followed a gut instinct, summoning her magic and willing it to make her invisible–only to Loki.

Several rows of soldiers walked by like a parade (no doubt the egotist would be pleased) and then, the man himself. He wasn't short and red-headed. He didn't seem wiry and thin; and he certainly wasn't ugly. If this was Loki, then everything she had just read about him had to be tossed out the window.

He was tall; tall than all of the soldiers. And dark haired; his shoulder length locks were coiffed perfectly in spite of the fight she'd seen him participate in. He had a longish face, but a well sculpted jaw; and eyes glinted in a way that was making Mia completely reconsider her previous theories. He was clearly glad he had been captured. But why?

His eyes locked onto Dr. Banner, a grin spreading over his thin lips and radiating pleasure. Banner was slowly removing his glasses, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Mia was guessing that her 'magic' must have been working, because Loki hadn't looked at her directly at all. Then, interested in testing his reaction, she let the shield drop.

His reaction was much stronger than she had anticipated. The smirk dropped clean off of his face, replaced by an awestruck look that quickly shifted to fear, and then horror. It was Mia's turn to smirk at him, crossing her arms in satisfaction at the look he was wearing. In fact, he was so shocked by her sudden appearance that he froze in the middle of the hallway, causing the guards behind him to run straight into his back. He didn't even turn to glare, but just stared slack jawed at her through the windowpane. His eyes, which were a bright, cold blue, drilled into hers; as if he'd seen a terrible sight there yet couldn't look away. Mia found herself oddly confused, wanting to look away yet unable to.

"That's funny; it like he didn't even see you there until…" Banner trailed off, as taken aback with the god's reaction as Mia was.

It didn't end there. With a brisk shake of his head, Loki stared at her confusedly. 'It's you,' he mouthed through the glass, which made her blink in surprise. His expression would have been priceless if it were on anybody else's face. On him, it just looked wrong, all wrong. Malice, yes. Sarcasm, yes. Cherubic innocence probably would have even worked; but the look of complete realization and fear was just not right.

Then it morphed into desperation, just as a guard shoved him in the back, forcing him forward. Loki struggled for a moment, straining to lean backwards and catch a final glimpse of her face. And then, with one final shove, he was gone.

Mia staggered backward. It felt as though someone had given her 'magic' a harsh cold blow. "That was…strange," she finally managed, a little breathless.

"That was beyond strange," Banner corrected firmly. "He looked at you like you were his long lost soul mate. What the hell was that all about?" He didn't seem angry at her, just confused.

"I have no idea," Mia admitted. For once, she was at a complete loss. "I have never seen that man in my life, before today."

. . .

Loki moved on from the laboratory window, still in shock. It was her. His Intended. She was working for SHIELD? The sarcastic side of his mind wanted to bite, _oh that's perfect,_ but another part responded almost breathlessly, _does it matter? _His head was spinning, he felt like he couldn't breathe; the hall had been turned upside down and his heart had increased its speed to a ridiculous frenzy.

How was this possible? The Other had not lied, then? She was real? He felt it in the Core of his being, just as it had been foretold: an intense and unavoidable tugging in the pit of his stomach as if magnetizing him, a gravity pulling his body back towards the door she was safe behind. It would have been nauseatingly sentimental, if he hadn't been experiencing it full force.

She had magic, he realized; unless something else had shielded her from his sight momentarily. He would have noticed her right away if not for its presence; and a concealment spell was one of the more difficult to contrive. How had a mortal managed to create such a thing?

He was taken into a room, where a large containment vessel was held, built almost entirely out of glass. The soldiers escorted him to the door, which opened with a pressurized hiss. He saw Director Fury come in from the corner of his eye, and rolled his eyes as the door slid closed behind him. He stood in the middle of the container (or rather, cage) and waited as Fury walked over to a control panel to one side of the room.

"In case you were wondering," said Fury, "you try and escape..." he pressed a few buttons. "You so much as scratch that glass…" Loki walked to the edge of the container and looked down. A hole had opened in the ship, revealing nothing but the dark emptiness of the night sky below. The god looked down at it bemusedly. "Thirty thousand feet, straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?" He stared at the villain. "Ant, boot." He closed the vent.

Loki let out a series of soft chuckles. "It's an impressive cage," he admitted. "Not built, I think, for me."

"For something a lot stronger than you," Fury said sternly.

Let the games begin, Loki thought to himself. "Like what?" he questioned lowly. "The mindless beast who makes play he's still a man?" He looked up at the camera on the ceiling he'd seen on his left, smirking. "Or the mesmerizing sorceress who can out-charm even my own perception?" He winked.

. . .

"I'm sorry, did he just wink at us?" Captain America asked, looking up at the others in confusion.

Natasha shook her head, and Banner just shrugged. Thor seemed disturbed, and furrowed his brow intensely.

Mia sat in her chair, recording the entire conversation on her own personal tablet for future reference. Her heart had stopped when he called her out: of course he would be able to deduce that the cloaking was her own doing. But the wink? Was that entirely necessary? She rolled her eyes at the thought.

"How desperate are you, that you resort to such unorthodox methods?" Loki taunted.

"How desperate am I?" Fury strode forward. "You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill cause it's fun." He glared at the man intensely with his one eye. "You have made me _very_ desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

Loki looked at him a long moment, searchingly. Finally, his eyes narrowed. "Ooh," he said teasingly. "It burns you to have come so close." He stepped back, away from the glass. "To have the Tesseract, to have power…_unlimited _power." He looked at the camera again, sneering. "And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share?" Then, glaring back with equal intensity, Loki snapped, "And then to be reminded what REAL power is." A smirk tugged at his lips. "Even _she_ is more powerful than you and your group of half-witted, would be heroes. Be careful that you don't anger her."

"And why would _you_ care if I anger HER or not?" Fury yelled through the glass. "You don't even know half of her story!"

"Do you?" Loki asked, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "Don't rush to conclusions, Director Fury; especially when those around her don't even know who, or what, she really is." He looked up at the camera again, a strange clarity in his eyes. "I'm coming for her. Then you shall know REAL power."

The anger in Fury's glare was lost on those watching by camera. "Well," he said, walking away from the cage. "Let me know if 'REAL power' wants a magazine in the meantime."

Back in the council room, the connection cut out.

Mia was doing her best to remain calm. Somehow, Loki knew everything about her. She didn't know why or how, but he did. Why should he care? As he had said, she reasoned. REAL power. He meant to use her against SHIELD. Normally, she wouldn't protest…but world domination and despotism was already on her hate list, so that made for a serious conflict of interest.

Either that, or he knew of her true status…impossible. Simply impossible. She had taken every precaution, every method of hiding—

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Bruce quipped, rather dryly.

"Loki's going to drag this out," the Captain said thoughtfully. "So Thor: what's his play?"

"He has an army," Thor replied immediately, "called the Chitauri. They are not of Asgard, nor of any world known." He had been brooding to himself by the edge of the deck. Agent Hill had come up behind him a while ago, watching him carefully like he might suddenly become a threat to SHIELD property.

Now, he turned to face those seated (or standing) around the desk. "He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth; in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract." He looked at Mia, his gaze actually feeling uncomfortable in its intensity.

"An army?" Rogers repeated, casting a dubious look over at Mia. "From outer space."

"I've seen stranger things," Mia replied quietly. Which was true; seeing magic flow through your body with no idea how or why it got there is pretty much as strange as it gets—especially when you're 'just' a human.

Bruce gave her an odd look, and Mia could tell he was thinking of the incident in the lab. She cast her eyes down to her tablet, and set about saving the recording.

The others exchanged looks.

"He's building another portal," Bruce said, changing the subject. "That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

"Selvig?" Thor asked.

"He's an astrophysicist," the scientist explained.

"He's a friend." Thor looked disturbed.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell," Romanoff observed. Then she grew grim. "Along with one of ours."

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him," said Rogers vehemently. "He's not running an army from here. Paxton?" Mia looked up in surprise. "Any ideas?"

Mia stared at the Captain blankly a moment before sighing. "Well, you know. He's pretty much your usual villain stereotype," she said casually. "Troubled past, skewed sense of morality and justice…"

"Brain like a bag full of cats…" Banner added. "You can pretty much smell crazy on him."

Mia tipped her head in reluctant agreement. "Still: I've known some who act crazy so that they're underestimated. We can't make that mistake."

"Lady Paxton is correct—have care how you speak," Thor objected firmly. "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother."

"He killed eighty people in two days," Romanoff said flatly.

Thor considered this. "He is adopted."

With an annoyed snort, Mia tossed her head to vent some of her frustration in a non magical way. "Where you are born and whose child you are has no bearing on who you _choose_ to become," she snapped. "My point is that stereotype usually blinds people to the complexity of the villain's schemes. You tend to underestimate what you think you understand." She set her tablet down on the desk and crossed her legs. "Until the time comes that I can assess this guy with my own methods, Banner has the right idea here. We need to focus on any and all concrete facts."

"The mechanics," Banner said suddenly, "Like, the Iridium." Mia pointed at him in agreement. "Why does he need the Iridium?"

Before Mia could reply, a new voice filled the room. "It's a stabilizing agent." Mia let out her breath. Thank god, someone to take the spotlight off of her. Stark was the king of the spotlight, and for once she was immensely grateful for that.

He was talking to Coulson as he came in, muttering something about him catching a flight to Portland. "It stops the portal from collapsing in on itself, like it did at SHIELD." He strode casually past Thor, patting him on the bicep in a patronizing way. "No hard feelings, point break. You've got a mean swing."

"Also, it means he can open the portal as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants." He went up onto Fury's control platform and looked around. "Um, raise the mizzenmast. Jib the topsails."

An awkward silence hung in the air as all of the agents in the room ceased their incessant clattering of keyboard keys and looked at the man in disbelief. Mia stifled a laugh, somewhat unsuccessfully.

"That man is playing _Galaga!" _Stark called, pointing an accusing finger to his left. "He thought we wouldn't notice, but we did." The room resumed its clattering, Mia noting the Captain's oblivious look, and smiling inwardly. Despite his leadership bravado, the man really didn't have a clue about what was going on sometimes. Tony had turned back to the console, covering one eye and peering at it in confusion. "How does Fury even see these?"

Maria Hill was far from amused with the man's antics. "He turns," she said dryly. Mia was surprised to see someone more cynical than herself on the scene. That was new.

"Sounds exhausting," Tony replied, far from fazed by the woman's reaction. He moved to examine a screen. "The rest of the raw materials, agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. The only major component he still needs is a power source of high energy density. Something to, kick start the cube." With his chattering and quick hand movements, Mia recognized the distraction technique from a certain little parlor trick she had seen many vengeful journalists play on her. The hand movements were simply a diversion from what had just done. She hadn't seen it clearly and couldn't be certain of what he'd done, but knowing Tony, Mia had a feeling that SHIELD would be hacked later that day.

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Hill demanded coldly.

"Last night," said Stark, with a sassy twitch of the head. "The packet, Selvig's notes. The Extraction Theory Papers, he called them. Showy name for a science essay."

"Wasn't bad reading material, though. The data on the high molecular density of the Cube's structure was particularly interesting," Mia said thoughtfully, before wishing she'd held her tongue. The point was to divert the attention _away _from yourself, remember? Captain Rogers raised an eyebrow at her. "What? I did my homework."

"Nice to see I'm not the only one who did the reading," Stark acknowledged.

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Rogers asked, which was surprising. He was horribly out of the loop on certain things, but no one could say he was slow on the uptake.

"He would have to heat the Cube to 120-million Kelvin, just to break through the Coloumb barrier," Banner said.

"Unless Selvig has found a way to stabilize the Quantum Tunneling effect," Stark agreed, moving around the table to properly introduce himself to the scientist.

"Well if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion-fusion at any reactor on the planet," said Banner, fiddling with his glasses. _A nervous habit, _Mia realized.

"Finally, someone who speaks English," said Tony appreciatively.

"Is that what just happened?" Captain Rogers asked, casting a confused look back at the two men who were now shaking hands. Mia couldn't suppress her smile this time.

"Don't feel bad, Captain," she said in a commiserating tone. "This isn't nearly as bad as it can get. Tony loves using his big sciency words to show off."

The Captain gave a relieved smile.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner," said Tony, choosing to ignore Mia's little slight. "Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalled." He paused. "Also, I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

All three women in the room rolled their eyes.

Banner gave a short stiff nod before saying simply, "Thanks."

"Dr. Banner is only here to track the Cube," Director Fury announced, sweeping into the room. "Just as Miss Paxton is here only to monitor and assess Loki's behavior and possible plots. However, I was hoping you might join him."

"I would start with that stick of his," Rogers said. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the Cube," Fury admitted.

"I'm sorry, aren't we missing the biggest point here?" Romanoff cut in. "What Loki said; about a woman. I've been called a lot of things, but a 'mesmerizing sorceress' isn't among them."

Mia found the air suddenly driven from her lungs by her overwhelming sense of panic. She fisted her hands under the desk, silently hoping against hope that the subject would change. The familiar cool buzz of her magic wound around her fingers, trying to force them apart. Gritting her teeth, Mia tried to look normal as possible.

"The woman isn't a priority right now," Director Fury said, his words music to the anarchist's ears. "We need to focus on the Tesseract. The sooner it's back in our hands, the safer we'll all be."

Mia could see the others casting suspicious glances at each other in the reflection of the glass tabletop.

After a rather unconvincing silence, Fury cleared his throat. "The staff clearly runs off the Tesseract. I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the brightest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys?" Thor asked, totally bewildered. "I do not understand."

"I do!" Rogers cried, giving a triumphant look in Mia's direction. Behind him, Stark rolled his eyes in a massive circle. "I understood that reference."

"Shall we play, Doctor?" Tony asked the scientist.

"This way, sir," Banner replied, gesturing behind the billionaire towards the lab.

After they'd gone, Mia felt her heart rate stabilizing and unclenched her hands, allowing trace amounts of the golden sparks to flow from her fingertips in miniscule streams. No one saw them. She took a deep breath, and stood up. "Now. If no one objects, I'm ready to take a crack at Loki."

"Actually, I do," Fury interjected. Mia turned around in surprise. "I'd like you to allow him to collect himself before further interrogation. He's just been captured twice, dragged around by his Asgardian not-brother, and locked in an impenetrable container. Let him get his wits together before tearing apart his immortal soul."

Mia scowled. "Okay, number one: I don't tear apart people's souls. I stop cold hearted criminals from extorting the American populace. B, I don't interrogate. My methods are much more subtle." She crossed her arms. "So. What do you have for me to do in the meantime?" She could see in the cold silver walls the reflection of Romanoff and Rogers exchanging surprised looks. No one spoke to Fury like that, but this journalist seemed to get away with it left and right. Who was this woman, that SHIELD's head agent allowed such a tone?

Fury narrowed his one good eye, and crossed his arms right back. "Well, Miss Paxton, as much as I hate to say it, you're free to roam about the country. The country being this helicraft."

Now it was Mia's turn to be surprised. "Seriously?"

"WITH an accompanying agent," Fury amended.

Mia scowled again. "Oh. Lovely."

Then, to her even GREATER surprise (and mild irritation), someone spoke up. "I'll go with her."

The journalist whirled around to face the table again. "Excuse me?"

Captain Rogers stood up. "I'll go with you. I haven't had time to see all of this ship either…well, if you can call it a ship, exactly." He looked over at Romanoff, who mouthed, 'helicarrier'. "Helicarrier. Right." He looked at Mia expectantly.

Mia sighed, a little exasperated. Perfect. Not only was she being watched, she was being babysat by Captain freaking America. Joy. "Fine. Just let me swing by my room and grab a few things."

"Okay," he said agreeably, which only made Mia want to punch him. Honestly, why did he have to be so _nice_ all the time? America wasn't nice! Not the America she knew, anyway. It was corrupt, and easily bought off by commercialism, and press, and the cunning, ambitious people whom she devoted her life to stop. People like…

"President Winters has asked that we keep all matters regarding Loki and the Tesseract out of reach of the public, for the time being," Fury told her, carefully watching her reactions to the name. "All access to servers other than SHIELD's secure database has been blocked, so please: don't try to contact any of your press buddies."

"Associates," Mia corrected stiffly. "And that is highly typical of our nation's _leader._" She sniffed angrily, and nabbed her tablet off the table. She left the room without even casting a backward glance to see if Rogers was following her. He did though; true to his word.

After she'd gone, Fury glanced at both Agents Hill and Romanoff. "Any further doubts, Agents?"

"None, sir," Hill replied, and Romanoff shook her head.

"I think my doubts have been nullified," Romanoff said, getting up from the table and heading off to other duties.

**Welcome, to the new **_**Secrets of an Anarchist!**_** Now a part of my **_**Paxton Files**_** series, **_**SoaA**_** has been completely written as my NaNo project, and will be updated either weekly, or bi-weekly, depending on what you guys want. Things are going to pick up a lot plot-wise in the next chapter, so hold on to your seats!**

**Also: the previous three chapters have been slightly altered. I would recommend you reread them to make sure you know what's going on. **

**I've begun another **_**Avengers**_** story as well, a Fem!Bucky/Winter Soldier recovering in Avengers Tower with the whole gang type thing. Loki's in there too, so all the yes there. CHECK IT OUT, if you will! Link on my Stories page *shameless self promoting wut wut***

**Please review! It would make my day (:**

**-Ana**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mia stormed down the halls of the helicarrier, heading for her designated room with no small amount of irritation.

As an anarchical journalist, Mia had made no bones about publicly expressing her disdain for the President. This wasn't a trifling, petty dislike for matters of national affairs or policy (though, those were far from trifling or petty.) On a personal level, she was much more invested in her hatred.

"What was all that about?" said a voice she had hoped wouldn't follow her. Captain Rogers. Why was it that a mental sigh always followed that name? Oh YEAH: patriotism. Ugh. Nauseating.

Part of her was berating herself for giving so much of a reaction to Fury's rather obvious jibe. Or, was it obvious? Only if he already knew her secret— which wasn't something she liked to think of, given her current circumstances.

"Miss Paxton!" For being a super-soldier, the Captain seemed to be struggling to keep up with Mia's fast clip. Maybe he really was a bit out of shape. But, no. No way. One look could disprove that theory, Mia thought. Not that she'd been looking, but observation was her strong suit.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?" she replied, forcing any annoyance out of her voice and putting on her best and most proper voice. "I'm sorry for running out so quickly, I need to fetch a few items from my room and I didn't wish to keep you waiting." She kept her quick clip down the hallway, not looking back. She could tell from the steady rhythm of footsteps a few feet behind her that he'd caught up.

"You know, for someone who prides herself on uncovering the dishonesty of others, you do a pretty poor job of lying yourself." It was a statement, not a question. Mia almost stopped walking right then. God, did he know too? No, she reminded herself. He couldn't. He only meant her reaction, not the reason behind it.

"Yeah, well. Maybe I just don't have the stomach for it," she muttered, watching her feet as she maneuvered her way through the almost silent hall. Only the sound of their feet, and the slight humming of the ship's engines on a deck far below them. She picked up her speed.

"Paxton? Paxton!" The captain caught her by the arm, carefully enough that she didn't trip yet firmly enough that she couldn't keep walking. "What is going on?" He looked genuinely alarmed, and had Mia been a less skeptical person she might have even thought concerned.

Mia held her tablet close to her chest, observing the man with keen, green eyes. "Maybe you don't know, Captain," she said slowly. "I would have thought that, having woken up in a completely new era, you would have seen some of the changes–the _real _changes, mind you– that have occurred in this country since you went under."

His expression hardened, ever so slightly. "I've seen a thing or two."

"I can assure you that whatever you've seen, it's only the surface of what is festering in the heart of this country," Mia said, her voice now a whisper. She swallowed. "I would know, better than most."

Rogers looked grim, his brow furrowed. "What does President Winters have to do with this?" he asked.

"President Winters has _everything_ to do with this!" Mia hissed, foot twitching in irritation. Luckily the Captain didn't notice the golden shockwave that flew out from around her foot. But what he did notice (and didn't mention, or acknowledge) was a slight shimmer, a light array of sparks or dust that came out from the sole of the woman's heeled shoe.

Taking a deep steadying breath, Mia returned the favor and grabbed Rogers' arm, pulling him along with her. "Just come with me."

She dragged the man, literally all the way to her room— no small feat considering his size. There, she unlocked and flung open the door, dragging him in after her. "That's not going to look good on the cameras later," she admitted. "But it was necessary."

"Why?"

"Because," Mia said, turning her tablet back on, "The interface in the wall to our right had begun to record us. I don't think SHIELD needs to know about my particular dislike for our first citizen."

"What about this room?" Rogers asked, looking around skeptically.

"I've disabled all of the cameras," Mia explained, "and put them on a continuous twenty four hour loop. They're only made to track irregularities in behavior and pattern; they won't actually check them for accuracy."

"Someone's done their homework." Rogers gave her a wary look, repeating her previous words back to her. "Funny thing for a journalist to know how to do."

"It's my job to know unusual things." Mia turned back to him, completely straight faced. "Has it never bothered you, Captain, that while you were gone, the American government has elected _not _to elect?"

Rogers frowned. "What do you mean?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe you don't know." She opened a page on her tablet, and gave it to him. "In 2004, the government announced that according to popular vote, the term limit for presidential candidates would be eliminated from the electoral process. Instead, a president could be reelected an indeterminate number of times, even if remaining in office until their death.

"Shortly after this monumental and _very _unconstitutional amendment, Charles Winters began his sudden, unexpected presidential campaign. Winters was previously head scientist and CEO of _Wintech_, a company dedicated to progressive technology and advancement in the developmental sciences—chiefly, genetics and bio-enhancement.

At the time, _Wintech_ had close ties with _Oscorp _and the military. _Stark Industries_ was its biggest rival in technology, as both supplied to the military on fluctuating contracts. Basically, whoever created the best product got the most business."

"Stark must have been thrilled," Rogers said dryly.

"Rather. Charles Winters shift to politics was unexpected—his _winning _the 2004 election even more shocking. No one's honestly sure how it happened. He's been in office ever since."

"Seems rather convenient," the Captain said, scanning the photos of the man in question. He was a rather good looking, middle aged man who appeared to have a blonde wife–the first lady, he realized. Often times they appeared with a delicate looking blond girl, a teenager.

"President Charles Winters and the first lady, Victoria. They have…a daughter, Clemency Winters, age fifteen." Steve noticed her voice becoming tense, as she almost spat out the names of the president and his wife. He tone softened however, on the daughter's name—and even seemed to catch slightly. "President Winters has been in office for a good ten years. Not everyone loves him, but for the most part the population is in favor of him. Each time he has been reelected he has won by a landslide majority."

"But, why?" Rogers wondered, looking at the pictures of the relatively happy Presidential family. "Why would they essentially _remove_ the four year term? If people like him so much, why would he want to remain in office? The Presidential seat gets you a lot of _negative _attention. And why did he make the jump from tech to politics anyway? What's the point?"

Mia looked impressed. "Very good, Captain," she said. "Whatever can be said for your time in the ice, it certainly hasn't slowed your wit."

He smiled a little at this. "You don't have to call me Captain, Miss Paxton. Steve will do just fine."

"Okay." Mia tried to hide her surprise, and mostly succeeded. "Steve it is then. Feel free to call me Mia." She did catch the fact that his smile widened a bit more at this, which only made her queasy. She didn't need to start anything with the guy; that was for certain. Especially after the incident with Loki in the lab. "We don't know. _I _don't even know; which worries me, because I usually- well, not to boast but I usually know more than most people."

"So, what does this have to do with SHIELD?" the Capt—that is, Steve asked.

"Despite what SHIELD would like you to believe," she said with a sigh, "SHIELD is in neck deep with the government – mainly, President Winters directly. And given that I don't trust either of them AT ALL, with plenty of good reasons not to, I'm not exactly comfortable with being aboard this vessel." Mia sighed again, tensely this time. "There's something going on, something behind the glass, and SHIELD is right smack in the middle of it. For example, _Wintech_ used to be strong—debatably stronger than _Oscorp_— and as soon as the election was over it faded into the woodwork. No one knows who's running it now, or if it even exists. Some think it does, but there's very little supporting evidence. I can't see the whole picture yet; there's too little information to go on. But I think it's safe to say that whatever it is, it's just as much of a threat as Loki and the Tesseract."

Steve looked grim, flexing one gloved hand thoughtfully. "That's…not exactly good news."

"Little is, in my line of work," Mia replied, taking her tablet back from the man. "However, with as much uncertainty as there is, I do have one concrete fact."

"What's that?"

"It all has something to do with Phase 2." She picked up her bag and shoved the tablet inside. "And I intend to find out what."

Steve gave a slow nod. "I should stop you."

"I know," Mia said, not looking at him. But she did stop fiddling with her bag, and went still. "And will you?"

After a long, deliberate pause, Steve said, "No."

Mia let her breath out, and went back to organizing her bag. "Good."

"But I will help."

Confused, Mia whirled around. "Excuse me?"

Looking a little sheepish, Steve added, "If you'll have me, that is. I have a few unanswered questions myself, and I doubt SHIELD is going to just hand me the answers." Shuffling his feet would have gone along nicely with the face he was making.

In spite of her initial urge to say 'no way' and kick him out of the room, Mia hesitated. As far as she'd seen, his intentions had been good— nothing like she'd come to expect from anything that had 'America' practically branded on it. If anything, he seemed like a really nice, transparent kind of person–though, given his past, she knew he had his issues. But still: an honest, good guy. A reliable, trustworthy ally.

She didn't really go in for friends, except for Jane and Darcy, so that would do nicely. An ally.

"Okay, Cap," she said, giving him a quick nod. "You're in."

. . .

After this announcement, she and Steve had headed back to the lab. "I have some questions for Tony," Mia had said, and Steve hadn't argued. He found it remarkable how this woman could convince some of the most powerful men on the planet to help her, with just a few well aimed words.

He could understand her skepticism, on some level. He had been feeling similarly since he'd been woken up. But seeing what she did in spite of her doubts was interesting. She was assisting SHIELD with its prisoner—though, to what end was hard to tell. But she obviously had her reasons.

Mia kept pace with Steve, instead of rushing ahead or falling behind like she wanted to. She had been shocked when he had offered to help her in her investigation. She had been expecting something like outrage or disbelief from him, considering that was what she usually got until she had proved her instincts true. Instead, he had willingly agreed to participate in snooping on one of the world's largest covert organizations.

It was possible, of course, that his true motives were to make sure she didn't find out too much. But Mia was nearly perfect at discerning human expressions, and his was only one of sobriety and determination. Much how she felt, in fact, so for the time being she decided to let him be and allow him to help out.

Though what help a superhero could be on her quest for truth, she wasn't exactly sure.

They walked into the lab to find Tony being Tony–that is, poking Bruce Banner in the side with an electrified prod.

"Really? Nothing?" He was observing the scientist with an intense look that seemed to be a little disappointed.

"Hey!" Steve said sharply, and Mia jumped just a little. "Sorry," he apologized, momentarily setting a hand on her arm to steady her. He was still glaring at Tony.

"Its fine," Mia said dismissively, brushing his hand off. He looked at her for a moment before marching up to the table.

"Are you nuts?" he demanded.

"Jury's out," Tony snarked, straight-faced. "Hey, cat eyes. I was wondering if you'd show up." He caught sight of what she was holding. "Ooh! Gimme your tablet a minute." Seeing Mia's 'no way in hell' expression, he added, "software update, c'mon. You're the first person to get it."

Damn his persuasiveness. Mia came around the table and reluctantly handed the Starkpad over, watching closely as Tony installed the files. "No funny business, mister," she said, nudging him.

"Um, double-crossing the world's best journalist? I'm not an idiot."

"Senseless flattery doesn't suit you, Tony."

"Oh admit it already, you love me."

"STARK," Mia said sternly, but Tony was far from finished. He chuckled at her obvious irritation and turned back to Banner, who was focusing on his work. "You've really got a lid on it, don't you? What your secret? Mellow jazz, bongo drums, a huge bag of weed." He gave Mia a fake serious look. "You didn't hear the last one."

"Right," Mia said, rolling her eyes.

"Is everything a joke to you?" Steve asked, annoyed.

"Funny things are," Tony said, pointing the prod at the super-soldier.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny," Steve said seriously. "I mean, Mia's a civilian!" He gave the scientist an apologetic look. "No offence, Doc."

"It's alright," Banner acquiesced. "I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things."

But Tony, being the intellectual hawk that he was, picked up on something. "Hold up: she's _Mia_ now?" he asked skeptically. "And suddenly, you're protective of her? Something's changed." He looked at Mia, assessing. "And you, didn't protest." A small smirk began to form on his lips as he handed the tablet back to her. "I see."

Mia rolled her eyes, and forced herself not to blush. "I can protect myself," she said firmly, not looking at the Captain to her left. "We're not here to goof off with you, Stark."

"But isn't that what we normally do? I mean, just a minute ago…"

Steve looked ready to strangle him.

"Look," Mia said, leaning closer to the table to get a closer look at the spear. "Save the comedy for later, alright? Time and place."

Tony made a tsk-ing noise. "Stress getting to you already? SHIELD is a killer, I tell you." He pointed at Banner. "Take him, for example. You're tip-toeing, big man. You need to strut."

Banner shook his head bemusedly.

"And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," Steve insisted. For once, Mia was grateful for the backup. Normally, she just had to endure Tony's crap until he grew tired of it and got to work. Having a hero available to enforce your point had its perks, apparently. Somehow Steve managed to remain relatively calm and firm, when Mia would have socked Stark in the arm by now. Though, the tension in the room was suffocating.

"You think I'm not?" Tony argued, picking up a silver pouch of snack food and opening it. "Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? Including, but not limited to, the _real _reason he needs an anarchist. I know I'm not the only one who didn't buy his little speech about Mia observing and assessing the prisoner. I mean, really?" He popped some of the snack into his mouth. "I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"No kidding," Mia muttered, much to Steve's surprise. "It was all I could do not to laugh out loud right there on the bridge. How stupid does he think I am, seriously."

"You think Fury has another reason for bringing you on board," Steve said, eyeing her with a certain level of concern.

"Yes, but that's off topic," Mia corrected him lightly. He stood a little straighter, leveling a flat stare across the table at Tony. "Tony's being slippery."

"Do you think Fury's hiding something from us?" Steve asked Tony.

"He's a spy," Tony said, noshing on his snacks. "Captain, he's "the" spy. His secrets have secrets. Mia knows that better than anyone." Mia tipped her head in an acknowledging way, while Tony pointed at Banner. "And it's bugging him, too."

Mia gave Banner a surprised look. He sighed. "Uh…I just wanna finish my work here, and…"

"Doctor?" said Steve, eyeing him carefully.

The scientist paused for a moment. "'A warm light for all mankind', Loki's jab at Fury about the Cube," he began.

"I heard it," Steve agreed.

Banner pointed at Tony. "Well, I think that was meant for you." As if offering a reward for his insight, Tony handed the packet of snacks to Banner. He took some and passed it back. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark Tower?" Steve said, looking a bit appalled. "You mean that big ugly–" Mia elbowed him in the ribs, at the exact moment Tony gave him a look that said 'really?' Steve saw Mia giving him a similar look, but with a faint smirk on her lips. She also appeared to be having a tiny coughing fit. "…building in New York?" he finished. If it were anyone else, Mia could have sworn that he was being stubborn. As it was, Steve had been laughing. Now he was just being stubbornly unimpressed.

"It's powered by an arc reactor, a self sustaining clean energy source," Mia explained, her smirk long gone.

"That building will run itself for what, a year?" Banner asked.

Tony shrugged in agreement. "It's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now," he admitted. "That's what he's getting at."

"So why didn't SHIELD call him in on the Tesseract project?"

"What are they doing in the energy business in the first place?" said Mia, brow furrowed. Intuition told her that this had something to do with (or possibly _was_) Phase 2.

A few months back, when she'd been investigating into the inner workings of the Oscorp Corporation, she'd come across similar discrepancies in a particular program: _Genesis_. What had supposedly been discontinued years before was somehow running in the background of Oscorp's servers, almost like a virus, or hidden file. She had taken it to Tony, who had helped her hack the file—only it was an alternating encryption, which according to Tony meant that in this case, the file was a dummy. Her other leads on the subject eventually led her to a dead end—a _tidy_ dead end.

While Mia was still investigating Oscorp on the side, her SHIELD Phase 2 leads had become much more interesting—which had lead her here, of course. This situation reminded her of _Genesis_, in the simple fact that there weren't enough loose ends. It had been cleaned up too well, hidden away from prying eyes.

"I should _probably _look into that, once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files," Tony quipped, the note of 'I am made of sheer awesome' not easily missed in his tone.

Steve frowned. "I'm sorry, did you say—"

Mia sighed impatiently. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"What, and you're not happy about that, miss 'I love everybody's dirty secrets'?" Tony snarked at her playfully.

"I'm a political journalist, Stark," said Mia, more stiffly than usual. "Not a gossip columnist. I search for the truth behind the lies, not the juicy tidbit behind the façade. Know the difference please."

Tony shrugged. "JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge," he said, moving on. "In a few hours, I'll know every 'dirty secret' SHIELD has tried to hide. Blueberry?"

Steve just looked sort of miffed at this, ignoring Tony's random fruit offering. Mia, for her part, was relatively excited at this bit of news. No doubt Tony would let her take a peek at the files as well, and that could help her a lot. Maybe coming aboard the carrier wasn't such a bad thing, after all…

"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around," Steve deadpanned, looking at Stark unimpressed. Mia rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to her Starkpad. This could go on for ages.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence?" Tony scoffed.

"Historically speaking, not awesome," Mia finished, giving Steve a dubious look. He seemed a little disappointed with her response, but settled on a neutral look in her direction when she turned down Tony's attempt at a high five. Not that Mia particularly _cared _about what others thought about her opinions—only a select few had that respect from her, and so far, Rogers wasn't one of them. His volunteering to assist her in snooping was a step in the right direction, but if he was trying to get on her good side, he had no idea how long of a journey he had just started.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up," Steve said bluntly. "This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed." His expression grew serious, and Mia almost laughed aloud as she considered that this was probably his 'captain' face. "We have orders. We should follow them." Strike that, it _definitely_ was.

"Following's not really my style," Tony said, tossing a handful of fruit into his mouth. "Nor Mia's. You don't even want to know what happened the last time she was given direct orders from her editor." Steve looked at Mia out of the corners of his eyes.

She shrugged. "A series of rather scandalous emails may have been leaked online from his account," she said matter-of-factly. "But they were genuine, and he was an asshole. I liked his wife. Still like her now. I was glad she took over the editorial after the divorce. Deborah understands my need to freelance."

Steve ignored this. "And you're all about style, aren't you?" he said to Stark.

Tony frowned in mock consideration. "Of the people in this room, which one is A, wearing a spangly outfit, and B, not of use?"

If it were possible for Captain America to have a 'fuck you' expression, Mia thought, this would be it.

"Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you," Banner interjected. Steve looked at him, then back at Stark.

"Just find the Cube," he said, and went for the door.

Mia stood there, tablet clutched to her chest and an amused look on her face. "This has been…interesting," she said, smirking at Tony. She saw Steve pause outside the door, and turn as if waiting for her.

"Ah look, your new boytoy is waiting for you," Tony said sarcastically, eyebrow quirked. "How chivalrous."

Mia scowled. "Shut it, Ironass," she bit out, and deliberated a moment before following the captain from the room.

"Ooh, nice one. I like it better than Ironhead—though both do point out my best physical attributes."

"Whatever." Mia didn't look back. "Doctor Banner, if he gives you hell just flick him in the ear. Works every time."

"Good to know," she heard Banner say quietly, just before the door swung shut behind her.

Out in the hall, Mia found Steve waiting and still looking pretty pissed.

"Just—ignore Tony," Mia said, not sure what else to say. "He's an ass most of the time. You really only need bother listening when he's saying something useful—otherwise, I think you two are just going to keep butting heads."

"You two seem to get along well enough," Steve replied, just the faintest tinge of accusation in his voice.

"Yeah, well. We both use sarcasm to keep people at a safe distance. It's a similarity of language, more than anything—and I am friends with his girlfriend. So yes, we keep things chummy."

Steve said nothing to this, just grimaced thoughtfully as a group of agents shouldered past them. After a moment he grabbed her carefully by the arm and tugged her down the hall, into a spare room.

"If we keep this up people really are going to get the wrong impression," Mia muttered to herself.

"That might not be bad, considering the way Loki was talking about you." Startled, Mia froze. "That is, unless you're comfortable with him calling you a 'mesmerizing enchantress'."

Swallowing dryly, Mia turned to face him. "How did you know?"

"It wasn't hard to guess," Steve said, viewing her concernedly. "You're probably the only woman on board that could be called a…well, you know." He cleared his throat…was that nervousness, Mia wondered? If so, that was kind of adorable, coming from him—stop it, Mia. Captain America is your ally, and is decidedly _not _adorable.

"When did he see you?" Steve asked, arms crossed.

"I was in the lab, with Bruce," Mia replied, trying to replay the event in her mind. "I was discussing how each of us had been rather forcefully inducted into our SHIELD assisting positions, when Loki was brought past us on the way to the holding cell. I was…" she paused. "I was out of sight, at first, but when he saw me…" She hugged her tablet closer. "It was like he lost it. I've never seen someone so surprised to see me in my life—and I've done my fair share of sneaking up on people."

"Are you saying Loki _recognized _you?" Steve sounded alarmed.

"I don't know!" Mia said, flustered. "I mean, how could he? I've never seen him before in my life!"

Steve looked grim. "It doesn't mean he hasn't seen you," he replied. "This could have something to do with why SHIELD brought you on board in the first place." He looked at her seriously. "You need to be careful."

"Like I said, captain. I am able to take care of myself." Mia looked up at him resolutely. "I may not be in a tight spandex suit or seem intimidating, but I am more than capable of handling my current situation."

Steve looked her over thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said slowly. "You seem pretty intimidating to me." He gave her a slight but genuine smile.

"Have you told anyone?" Mia asked, trying to hide how nervous she was. She clenched her fists in an effort not to lose control—he didn't need to know _all_ of her secrets.

"No. But I think Fury, and possibly Romanoff know as well."

"Great." Mia ran a hand over her hair. "Just what I need right now, Fury being _more _nosey." She sighed. "And frankly, Romanoff is pretty freaking alarming."

"If either of them give you trouble…" Steve began.

"They won't. Have you seen me and Fury? I've got it covered." Mia gave a slight laugh, and shook her head, pretending to be more confident than she felt. "I should prep for my interrogation with Loki."

Steve grew serious again. "Right. Good luck with that," he said, giving her a tight nod. "I've…got a few leads to track down myself."

"Phase 2 related?"

"Probably."

"Okay." Mia frowned in confusion. "Let me know what you find."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Once Mia and Steve had gone their separate ways, Mia did go to prepare for her meeting with Loki—by heading back to her room. Some small part of her hoped that if she changed her clothes, Loki wouldn't recognize her at all. So that was what she did—and anyway, she was tired of looking out of place.

She went back to her compartment and changed into a pair grey dress pants and a black long sleeved blouse. No frills, no fuss. Her hair pulled out and let tumble down around her face, still sitting in loose waves from that morning's flattening and partially covering her eyes. It was an outfit of which Darcy would give her endless crap about, calling her too bland and uptight.

Darcy. This made Mia remember where her friends currently were, and a pang of concern swept through her. No doubt Jane's gig was somehow SHIELD contrived—especially now that Mia knew about Jane and Thor, things made more sense. Still, it made her feel better knowing that her friends weren't anywhere that could become dangerous—that is, unless Jane wasn't careful to watch how much alcohol Darcy ingested. But that was a different kind of danger altogether.

Thus prepped for her interrogation, Mia took both her Starkpad and her SHIELD issued tablet with her to the bridge. Upon arrival, she found Coulson and Fury standing at the front of the room with Thor. Fury and Thor appeared to be in some kind of heated discussion. However, when Fury caught sight of Mia, he drew himself up and smiled at her—and this scared the metaphorical shit right out of her.

"Miss Paxton," Fury greeted her. "You've arrived just in time. I was just telling Thor how we plan on your help to better understand his brother's motives."

Mia nodded uncertainly. From the look on Thor's face and Coulson's state of unease, this was nothing like what they were actually talking about. But she decided not to press the director for information—after all, she was keeping secrets she didn't feel like sharing with him, either. "Thank you, director. I appreciate the confidence in my abilities."

Fury frowned, his forehead furrowing into his eye-patch. "Where's Rogers?" he asked, looking annoyed.

"He left after we went to see Tony and Doctor Banner," Mia replied without blinking. "I went immediately to my room, changed, and came here."

"I see." Fury didn't seem particularly pleased with this, but before he could go on agent Hill came striding down the causeway.

"Sir, we're ready for Paxton whenever you've finished."

"Good."Fury turned back to Mia. "I've arranged to have agent Romanoff interrogate Loki after you've had your time with him. She may be able to extract different information than you—and given that her methods can be decidedly more aggressive than yours, we thought it best if you go first like you requested."

"Thank you," Mia replied, somewhat indifferently. She frowned in irritation. Of_ course_ the Black Widow would think her interrogation methods were better. They probably were, come to think of it: but Mia wasn't flat out interrogating Loki. It was cleverly disguised as _interviewing_ him, evaluating technically, which was something else entirely. People tended to let things slip when being interviewed, as opposed to interrogation were they were desperately trying _not_ to reveal things. And anyway, Mia didn't interrogate people anymore.

As things were, she just hoped Loki wasn't in too much of a volatile state to be of any use.

"Agent Hill will escort you to the holding chamber," Fury told her. "I need to speak with Romanoff—Coulson, please show Thor to the lab. How long should your interrogation take, Paxton?"

"Evaluation," Mia corrected. "And I would say no longer than thirty minutes, tops."

"Fine. I want us all to meet in the lab in thirty minutes. Paxton, you too. Bring the results of your 'evaluation' for the team to discuss." With that, Fury stormed off towards the nearest corridor, apparently set on the confrontation ahead.

"With me, Mia," Hill said, leading Mia away from the console. Thor nodded politely as she left, and Coulson led him off towards the hallway that Mia knew led to the lab.

Maria led Mia down a different corridor, past several security checkpoints and finally to a set of large, reinforced steel doors with pressurized lock cylinders that stuck out from the lock mechanism like the legs of a spider.

Hill swiped a card through a scanner next to the door, then typed in a series of codes into a touch-screen keypad. Meanwhile Mia reminded herself that figuring out Loki's plan and maybe—maybe—why he had acted so strangely when he saw her were her main priorities.

An uncalled for, singular question arose from the depths of Mia's mind: would he act as bizarrely as the first time he'd seen her? Every question led to another series of unanswerable, disturbing questions, and it was making Mia's head spin, making her feel powerless.

This worried her immensely—not because she had no control whatsoever over the situation, but because the lack of confidence she had in the entire operation was affecting her work, and her ability to concentrate—and that, when paired up with one of the most sadistic , heartless god-men she could ever hope to meet, created a recipe for disaster. The last thing she need was for Loki to get under her skin, rattle her just enough to make her carefully constructed walls break down just long enough for her to give away her little 'secret'. That was sure to create a domino effect that she would be unable to stop, no matter how persuasive she was.

Hill was speaking to her. "This is in case anything goes south," she said, handing Mia a grey bracelet. It had a wide grey band with a large black button on it that was embossed with the SHIELD emblem. "Simply hit the button and you'll be teleported to a designated safe area."

"Thank you," Mia said, as she strapped it tightly to her left wrist. "While I sincerely hope nothing goes wrong, it never hurts to have a quick way out."

"Good luck in there," Hill said, setting a hand briefly on Mia's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll do great."

Mia laughed out loud. "That makes one of us," she muttered, setting humorless green eyes on the door as the locks disengaged, painfully slowly.

. . .

The journalist stepped inside, her boots making only a slight scuffing on the cement floor. The massive doors shut behind her with a finality that shook her more than she cared to admit.

With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and marched up the causeway to the level of the containment unit, tablets crushed against her chest. She could feel Loki's eyes on her already, boring with a cool intensity into her skull. She could feel it as his eyes traveled over her entire form, like a wave of cold air.

Then Mia was standing in front of the doorway, staring at the man face-to-face for the first time.

He was grinning at her, a face breaking grin that had to hurt at least a little.

Mia just looked at him, face neutral a she tried to read him.

He didn't seem as cold, as calculating as she'd expected. Sure he was dressed in those crazy outlandish clothes, and sure he held himself regally, but he was surprisingly human for a supposed god.

"Like what you see?" Was he flirting? Shit.

"Honestly, I was expecting a little more," Mia said flatly, not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he ducked his head with a slight laugh.

"I, haven't dressed for the occasion," he said, looking down at his clothing.

"Oh. Is invading someone else's home planet cramping your style? What a pity," she said, bending down to set her Starkpad on the ground.

"Really, you of all people needn't kneel," Loki said, ignoring her comment.

Mia rolled her eyes, as she got to her feet. "Me of all people," she repeated dubiously, as a hologram sprang to life from the device on the floor. She began manipulating the images, pleased with Stark's latest 'update'. It was a personal favor, she realized now. This feature probably wouldn't be available on the market for months.

"Yes." His voice was cultured, refined. Each word was carefully crafted, selected for its purpose. She wondered if he ever said anything unnecessary—not because he didn't waste words, but because each word was so loaded with meaning. "If I'm not mistaken, you too come from royalty—though, Midgardians seem to have a strange system of politics."

Mia looked up at him, glaring involuntarily. She was moderately surprised to see him wearing an innocent expression—and was he blushing?

"There's no reason to be _ashamed,_" he said coyly. "Or do you not want your newfound 'friends' to know who you really are?"

"Would you?" Mia replied, pulling up a painting of Odin onto the hologram. Loki visibly tensed, his jaw twitching. "From what I heard, you aren't overly fond of your adoptive parents either." She crossed her arms. "Do _you_ go around, telling people what _you _really are? Because we all know that you're, what? The _master_ of deception? A trickster, a cheat?"

Mia stepped through the hologram, over her tablet. "But what are you really? Just another man, trying to prove he's something better than what he feels he is. Because how happy are you _really_, with yourself, if your greatest goal in life is to exalt yourself above those _weaker_ than you?"

"You know not of what you speak," Loki said, but his words lacked the necessary venom.

"A great man takes on forces stronger than him, and defeats them," Mia said. "In spite of all odds, in the face of _adversity, _and conquers. You don't seek to defeat adversity— you seek to create it, and remedy your own chaos." She was inches from the glass now, staring right at him. "That is not the mark of a _hero_. That is the mark of a _coward_." _Careful, Mia, _she warned herself. She could feel all of her rage towards her parents boiling under the surface, ready to erupt from her fingertips in a storm of gold.

After a few seconds, she took a step back. "And that," she said simply, "is who I am. Who I _choose_ to be. I find the men like you—men of Earth, of course, but of a similar mind—and bring them to their _knees._ Because that, _Laufeyson_, is what they deserve. " She watched him cringe at the name. "Nothing more, nothing less. Those who have no good intent, no inclination to help those around them, have no business becoming powerful or influential. I just see that their true motives are brought forward, into the light."

To Mia's intense annoyance, Loki was smirking at her. "Oh, you _are_ good," he said, his voice filled with an irritating satisfaction. "They call me Lie-smith, Silver-tongue, but you…" he shook his head wryly. "You, my dear, are the light to my darkness."

Mia scowled. "What do you honestly think flattery will gain you?"

"I was under the impression that flattery was a means of acquiring a lady's affection," Loki replied slyly, taking a few swooping steps backwards. His hands seemed to be in his pockets, as he viewed her with blue eyes slanted. "You shielded yourself from my sight—no mortal can do that."

"Apparently, you're wrong."Mia had gone back to her hologram display, as if Loki's presence weren't important to her in the least. "I am entirely human."

"Are you?" Loki strode forward, setting a palm on the glass. Mia looked through the hologram to see that his eyes were eagerly raking over her, the cold air combing through her clothes. He broke into a grin. "I think not. No _ordinary_ mortal, at any rate, and full of surprises."

"Why am I such a fascinating subject to you?" Mia asked directly, tired of the games. "Honestly, with world domination on the table, why bother sweet talking a journalist? Surely you have better things to do—even from a cell."

"Because you intrigue me. Few can manage that." Loki clasped his hands behind his back, observing Mia keenly. "How is it that such a beautiful woman—a veritable princess, no less—with such _astounding _power, has come to work with such a band of misfits?"

Mia clenched a fist behind her back. "Perhaps they are misfits," she countered, ignoring the twitch she was getting in her left eye. "But they are still more worthy of admiration than you are."

"Really?" He looked up at a camera in a corner of his container. "Is that so? Or are you just reflecting upon them your ideals for what a hero truly is?" Loki grew serious, his eyes drilling into Mia with a frightening intensity. "You call them heroes, yet they do nothing but leave destruction in their wake, causing pain and loss to the people you claim to stand for. They have no good intent! What else holds them here, other than a power greater than themselves? They serve to gain their freedom: like _slaves._"

He jabbed a thin, pale finger at her. "And you, you are so afraid of what you are. What you could _become. _ _Who _you are! You turn your accusing gaze upon others, because you cannot _bear_ to face the monster lurking within! What honor, what glory comes of hiding yourself from the world?"

"You really don't know what you're talking about," Mia said, hating how he had coaxed her into repeating his own words. "You don't know me."_Don't let him get the upper hand, Mia. This is YOUR interrogation…_

"Don't I?" Loki sneered. "I see a scared little girl, raised in a cage, kept out of the light because daddy couldn't have the public seeing his eldest daughter for what she was: a _freak._"

Mia clenched her teeth. _No, he can't know that. Nobody knows that. How—_

"You ran away," he continued, "_hating_ the man who raised you. You believed him to be just, honest—when the truth came to light, how your world crumbled around you! You joined the ranks of the peacekeepers—what do they call them here, _police?—_to atone for the sins of your parents, because you could not undo what they had done…what they are _still doing._"

"No," Mia said, trembling now. She had given up on the hologram, now just clenching her fists by her sides. _Breathe, Mia. Breathe. Don't let him in…_

"And when that failed, you made yourself a career of calling out those like him. Stopping the villains before they became the powerful ones. This, this is how you live with yourself, with who you are."

"No…"

"_No? _Oh yes, Mia. Or should I say…_Bridget_?"

"NO!" Mia twitched, a small cloud of sparks erupting from her fists. How had she lost control of the conversation so quickly? She sank to her knees, the hologram shutting off. She heard Loki chuckling above her.

"Do you see what hiding from yourself does, my love?" he said, his voice laced with a tenderness that was wrong, all wrong. "You _believed _them when they told you that you were a freak. You know that if these, these _cretins _find out who you are—what you are—they will treat you like a monster." He knelt down inside the container, pressing a hand to the glass. "You are not the monster. You _deserve_ better. And I can give it to you."

Mia looked up at him, green eyes meeting blue. "Why?" she asked, tremblingly.

Loki's expression softened, beyond mock sympathy and into something that was real emotion. "Because," he said softly, "you are my Intended. And for you, I will move heaven and earth, to create a world where you are accepted. Where you are _queen._ And we? We will _belong_ again."

Mia stared at him another long moment, allowing a tear to slip down her cheek. "Please…" she whispered.

The disowned demi-god leant his forehead against his arm, his hand still flat on the glass. "Darling…" he murmured, his eyes soft with feeling.

Mia bowed her head. Her shoulders began to shake, gently jumping up and down in sharp little jerks.

"My love, do not fret," Loki comforted her. "Soon we will be free of this infernal airship, and we will—"

Abruptly, Mia raised her head, eyes shining in triumph and a chuckle trickling from her lips.

Loki frowned in confusion. "What?"

"That was quite possibly the biggest load of shit I've ever heard," Mia said, shaking her head and clearly unimpressed. "Good lord. So much for the great liar, eh? All a girl has to do with you is shed a tear, and you're crumbling." She picked up her tablets and swiped at her wet cheek, effectively removing the single tear streak.

"I do not…" Loki trailed off, oddly confused.

"Oh come _on. _You didn't honestly expect me to _fall _for that garbage, did you? Or did you think you were the first person to bring up my past?" Mia snorted bitterly. "There was a reason I left the force, dude, and it wasn't because I was a sub-par cop."

Loki slowly rose to his feet, observing her with eyes narrowed. "I do not believe this is how we ought to be treating one another," he said finally. Mia rolled her eyes yet again.

"Yeah well. Don't bother getting all cuddly now." She gave the god one last unimpressed stare. "Nice chat. Oh wait—no, no it wasn't. Oh well. Can't win 'em all, I suppose. Or in your case, any." She winked at him. "Have fun in there. I hear the atmosphere is rather nice. Peaceful, even. Plenty of time to plot your world takeover."

"You cannot just leave!" Loki said, in what Mia assumed to be his most commanding tone. Then why, she wondered, did it sound so freaking desperate?

"Oh but I can," she replied simply, staring coldly, detached. "And if I never see you again, it will be too soon." With that, she hit the button.

She reappeared seconds later in the hallway outside the door, her head spinning. Hill was waiting there.

"How'd it go?" the agent asked, looking concerned. "Maybe it was just me, but it honestly looked like you were laughing at him in there."

Mia shook her head bemusedly. "Yeah. Yeah I was. The guy's a real piece of work. Possibly genius, but…still, a piece of work. Tell Fury he can send Widow in whenever he wants—I think I've played with his mind enough. He should drop the info she needs. Oh, and tell her to watch for reference to a 'monster'. I think there's something_ to_ that."

Hill looked bewildered, but Mia offered no further explanation. She stalked off, ready to talk to Steve.

"Mia!" Hill trotted down the hall after her, checking to make sure no one else was watching "Mia."

"Maria?" Mia asked, eyebrow raised.

"I've sent a blueprint of the ship to your personal tablet," the agent said quietly, head lowered. "You might want to check out what's being held in secure storage 10-C."

Mia grew solemn, realizing Maria was handing her the last piece to the puzzle that was Phase 2. "How am I supposed to—"

"Get in?" Hill finished. She gave Mia a knowing look. "Don't tell me Stark didn't give you the keycard."

Mia's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh...I see. Right, well." She nodded at Hill, just as a small gaggle of agents passed by, a long line of grey uniforms blending together. Seeing their suspicious glances, Mia continued, "I'll certainly take my report straight to Fury then, once I've written it up. Thank you."

"No problem," Hill said, giving Mia a sobering stare before heading away from the journalist and after the other agents.

Mia wasted no time. Talking to Steve would have to come after—if she had news for him as well, besides the news about Loki, then that was worth the extra wait.

. . .

In the lab, Tony Stark stood holding a remote, while beside him Banner watched the screen in front of them with rapt attention.

"What the shit was that?!" Tony laughed, seeing Loki's confusion as Mia left the holding area. "One minute he's killing innocent people in Germany, the next he's flirting with a political journalist working for SHIELD? The guy's completely out of his gourd!"

Banner shrugged. "I did say so, right from the beginning."

"Do not dismiss my brother's words as trifling," an unexpected voice intoned. Thor was striding into the room, his countenance grim and vaguely stunned. "I understand now his reference to a 'mesmerizing sorceress'. Loki has at long last fallen prey to Heimdall's prophecy."

"What's a Heimdall?" Tony asked, confused. "And who believes in prophecies anymore, I mean c'mon."

Thor glared at him. "Heimdall is of Asgard," he replied. "He is our Gatekeeper. As such he stands watch over all the nine realms and can, at times, see the future. This prophecy is one such example."

"Okay, sounds like a load of bull—"

Banner cleared his throat loudly, effectively cutting Stark off.

"Go on," Tony amended.

Thor gave him a dubious look, but continued. "When we were but children, Loki and I, my father Odin brought us before Heimdall. It is customary for the youth of Asgard, that he might see into our lives and predict what we should become."

"So he's like great daddy soothsayer," Tony remarked, now looking vaguely interested.

Thor ignored this, choosing to finish his story. "He predicted we should be great kings, strong rulers, and valiant warriors. And then, to my father's extreme displeasure, he predicted we would both find our Intended in a mortal."

"I'm sorry, 'Intended'?" Banner asked.

"Asgardians have a stronger connection to our inner force—what you mortals call a 'soul'," Thor explained. "We need only lay eyes on our Intended, and we immediately recognize that person as the one we are meant to be with for the rest of our existence."

"So, like a soulmate," Tony said, giving Banner a skeptical look.

"I know that you are doubtful of Asgardian ways, Stark," Thor said, a frown creasing his brow. "But I assure you, it is neither myth nor jest. I experienced the fulfillment of my own prophecy upon meeting Jane."

"Wait a second…" Tony finally realized the gravity of what Thor was saying. "So you're saying Loki thinks _Mia_ is his…whatever?"

"Intended," Thor finished. "And he does not think it. If it is a true fulfillment, there will be no doubt in Loki's mind. If it were possible to know how he reacted when he first laid eyes on her—"

"It is," Banner said. "I was with Mia when Loki saw her first. It was like he didn't notice her right away—and then he just froze. He tried to say something to her through the glass, and the guards had to drag him off. The funny thing was, though, that he looked like he _recognized _Mia. And she swore she'd never seen him before in her life."

The god of thunder looked even more solemn, if possible. "Then it is no mistake. Loki has found his Intended in Lady Mia, and he will not rest until he believes her to be safe."

"At the moment, it sounds like he thinks she's someone else entirely," said Tony. He moved a few gauges and wires around the scepter, and then fiddled with some settings on a screen. "He called her Bridget, didn't he?"

"Indeed." Thor was thoughtful for a moment. "I know not what he meant by it. Perhaps it is true. Has the Lady Mia ever gone by any other name?"

"I…I don't know," Tony said, sounding a little shocked. "It never occurred to me to find out." A devilish glint came into his eyes. "If there's anything to find though, I'll know soon enough." He checked his handheld again to track JARVIS' progress.

"I must go and warn Fury of this development," Thor said. "This may affect things greatly." He left with a swish of his deep red cloak and a set of heavy footfalls.

"Well well," Tony commented after he'd gone. "Mia's just got herself engaged to the Norse god of mischief—and to think she and Rogers were practically, how would he put it? Going steady?"

"That is, if her name is really Mia at all," Banner said, adjusting his glasses. "Loki doesn't drop meaningless hints. I'll bet there's something to his calling her Bridget."

Tony frowned at his handheld, as if just waiting for it to reveal all of Mia's secrets. "What are you hiding, Paxton?"

. . .

Nick Fury watched Mia's encounter with Loki in his office, accompanied by the Black Widow. She stood brooding in a corner, observing the conversation with a mixture of disgust and intrigue. Fury himself was a bit disturbed by Loki's apparent fascination with Mia Paxton—especially since the god seemed to be aware of her hidden identity.

Once Mia had successfully teleported out of the holding area, he turned his gaze from the screen onto the woman in the dark jumpsuit standing in his office.

"Any ideas on how Loki found out about Paxton's redacted files, Romanoff?"

Agent Romanoff drew a breath, and raised her eyebrows. "Well, it seems as if he knows a lot about her," she said lowly. "That doesn't necessarily mean he read her files—however, it's possible Barton could have gotten his hands on a copy." Her face drew with guilt at the name of her partner.

"These files are housed in only two places," Fury mused. "The White House, and this carrier." He pointed a finger down at that very file, set upon his desk. "Seeing as its highly doubtful Loki infiltrated the President's home, I can only assume that a copy of our file has fallen into his hands." He sighed. "In which case, we should be very careful. His words prove he knows of her…_talents,_ and he may want to use her as a means of escape—or worse, a weapon."

"Sir, I doubt Paxton has any inclination to assist Loki," Romanoff stated matter-of-factly. "She's made it perfectly clear that she wants as little to do with him as possible. I think our biggest concern is that he doesn't try to possess her with that scepter, like he did with…the others."

Fury didn't respond at first, staring thoughtfully at the file spread out on his desk. He slid a few papers aside before finally saying, "We should hope for our sake's that his interest in Paxton passes—we've already got enough volatile forces aboard this vessel as it is without her added to the mix."

"And if she does become volatile?"

"Then Loki's cell is plenty big for two," Fury said, his good eyebrow arched.

Natasha pursed her lips at this, as if displeased with his reply.

In his earpiece, Hill's voice sprang to life. "Sir, Paxton has finished with the prisoner. We're ready for Widow."

The director looked up at the agent. "He's all yours, Romanoff," he stated bluntly. Said agent shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Paxton thinks you hunch is correct, by the way. Feel free to press for details."

A grim smile tugged at the readhead's mouth . "I'll be glad to," she said, a frightening light in her eyes. She would make Loki spill anything and everything she needed to get her partner back.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Despite her seemingly indifferent and even humorous exterior, Mia was far from untroubled. Her intuition was buzzing with warning, and an overwhelming sense of dread was clouding her judgment. How stupid was it of her to make a laughing stock of a spurned demi-god? Really, freaking stupid. She had no idea what she'd been thinking—how was that helping SHIELD unveil his plans?

She had to admit it was satisfying, though. But something about the way he'd seemed so genuine, then so shattered when she'd had him there on his knees made her second guess her opinion of the guy. Loki was either seriously emotionally unstable—which was likely—or he was actually trying to get through to her. OR, both.

These thoughts troubled her on her way to storage compartment 10-C—however, not as much as the sight of said compartment's door sitting ever so slightly ajar.

Stealthily, her shoes not making so much as a faint tapping on the steel deck, Mia crept to the door and peeked in.

She didn't see anyone inside. The room was semi-dark, though, so it was hard to tell. Tentatively, Mia slipped inside the compartment before anyone saw her and leaned against the cold metal wall inside.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust from the bright lights of the corridor. Eventually she saw that the room was cramped with rows upon rows of storage shelves, each shelf filled with strong, reinforced SHIELD issue transport containers. She couldn't see the room's end at all, in any direction except for the wall directly behind her, and a series of rooms in the wall to her left.

"Holy geez," she whispered, almost dropping her tablets in surprise.

"Mia?"

She jumped a good two feet in the air, nearly dropping them a second time. "Christ, Steve!" she whispered furiously up at the star spangled man on the causeway above her.

"Sorry," he apologized seriously. "But you may want to come and see this."

A few minutes later, Mia was standing over a stack of opened crates, two sets of strange SHIELD issue weapons before her. All around them were similarly opened crates filled with identical arsenals.

"Please tell me these aren't what I think they are," Mia pleaded, knowing the answer already.

"I wish I could." Steve sounded completely done with everything.

Mia stared at the crate's contents, an unsettled feeling in her stomach. "This isn't it," she said finally. Steve looked at her as if she were crazy.

"What do you mean _this isn't it?!"_ he cried, gesturing wildly at the weapons around them. "If this isn't Phase 2, then I don't know what is!"

Mia sighed long-sufferingly. "I didn't mean about Phase 2," she amended, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is _definitely _Phase 2, mark my words—and great job finding it."

"How did _you_ find it?" Steve asked, now suspicious. "I didn't have a chance to contact you yet."

"My informant passed me the location of this unit as a possible site for the project."

"Right."

"What I meant," Mia continued, ignoring his last remark, "was that this isn't the whole picture. Remember what I told you? Phase 2 is a step towards a goal: what that goal is, I haven't yet discovered. But it's not good." She looked around at the endless cases. "Not good at all."

"A step towards a goal," Steve repeated grimly. "Something worse than _this._ I should have known. Nothing good comes of that _blasted_ Cube!" Angrily, he kicked a closed crate, sending it skittering forcefully several feet across the ground. Mia flinched at the noise, accidentally dropping her SHIELD issued tablet. The screen shattered as it hit the deck with a sickening crunch.

"I'm...I'm so sorry," Steve said, bending down to help Mia pick it up at the exact moment Mia knelt down to examine the broken remains.

"Its fine," she said dismissively, her voice cracking only slightly. "It was only my SHIELD tablet after all. Only really serves as a means of Fury summoning me. And monitoring me, you know the deal. Bit like a leash, actually. I won't miss it."

"No, not that," Steve said, then amended quickly, "I mean yes I'm sorry about the device, but I meant…" he looked at the crate ruefully. "That."

"No problem." Mia sighed as she flipped over the ruined device and sat down on the cold metal floor, back against the crates with her legs stretched out before her. "I don't usually scare that easily. Suppose I'm just a bit on edge after the whole Loki thing."

"Right." Steve sank to the ground beside her, propping his arm on one knee. "I'd forgotten about that, what with…" he trailed off, gritting his teeth before asking, "How did that go?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Mia confessed, fidgeting with the broken pieces of glass from the screen. She gave a clipped laugh. "I thought it went well at first, but now I'm not so sure."

"Did he cooperate?"

"I…think it might be better if you saw if for yourself," Mia replied, passing him her Starkpad. The video of her encounter was queued up.

Hesitantly, Steve took the tablet from her. She wasn't sure if her was still wary of the technology, or simply was unsure if he wanted to see the interview. Mia suspected it was a bit of both.

Hearing the interview a second time didn't do anything to reestablish Mia's confidence. She sounded stupid, childish—though admittedly, her acting had been rather convincing. Still, she was far from satisfied with her results, and if she hadn't practically sworn to Loki never to see him again (another stupid move,) she would have wanted to have another chance to speak with him.

Surprisingly, though, Steve's first comment was, "So he just flirted with you, the entire time? What's with that?"

"I have no idea," Mia said, finding herself oddly embarrassed by the subject. "I don't see why the heck he bothers. I'm probably his worst bet when playing those cards."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked. "You don't believe in love?"

"This is no time for love," Mia said staunchly, crossing her arms. "As far as believing in love when it comes to Loki? No way in hell." She thought carefully about all she had learned about love, over the course of her life. "Frankly, when it comes to love in any circumstances. I haven't exactly seen love in a form that isn't self serving."

Steve grew serious at this, an unreadable expression on his face. He returned to watching the recording.

"You were a cop?" he asked, upon hearing mention of it from Loki.

"Yeah, before I went to college," the journalist replied distantly.

"Makes sense."

She frowned. "How do you mean?"

The currently uniformed man gave a shrug. "Well, a few things," he said. "Your vocabulary, for one. You use phrases like 'motive',' interrogation' and 'probable cause' where others would say 'intent', 'interview', and 'possible reason'." He paused. "Also, when frightened you reach for your right hip—about where you'd carry a firearm."

Mia nodded. "NYPD for three years. I was on the fast track to becoming a detective, three weeks from permanent assignment, when…" she trailed off, looking at the floor beside her.

"When?" For some reason, when Steve asked Mia questions she didn't blow up at him like she might have if it were, say, Tony pressing for details. He had a way of being minimally invasive, and it didn't chafe Mia's temper the way Tony's sarcastic and rather blunt questioning usually did. In fact, it made her feel safe, safe enough to tell him the whole story.

"There was… an accident," Mia said, reluctantly. "I was on what was considered to be a low risk stakeout with my partner. It was routine, we had done it a dozen times already. We had been waiting for several hours in an alley, when our perps finally showed up. Rachel—my partner—stepped into the light first, thinking they were unarmed. It was then that a third man appeared out of nowhere and shot her through the head. I didn't even have time to react…she was dead instantly." She swallowed hard.

"Apparently I took down the armed man, and apprehended both of the targets before backup arrived, but I couldn't remember any of it. It was all a blank space in my memory, from the moment Rachel took that bullet to when I woke up in a hospital bed with a concussion, forty two stitches, three broken ribs and a punctured lung."

Leaning her head back against the crate behind her, Mia took a deep breath and screwed her eyes shut, trying to block the memory from playing over in her mind. "My supervising officer told me I wasn't to blame, that the intel hadn't warned us of a third man. It turned out the 'third man' who shot Rachel was a CIA plant, who claimed to have been uninformed that the NYPD was involved in his investigation." Mia scoffed bitterly. "Rachel's death was officially labeled as collateral damage. _My best friend, _'collateral damage'. The heartless bastard never even apologized."

"And he got away with that?" Steve asked, outraged.

"Of course he did. The CIA does what they want." Mia tucked her legs up, burying her face in her knees. "I couldn't stop thinking: what if I'd been the one to step out first? What if I'd held her back and waited just a few moments more, just long enough for that agent to show up?" She gripped her legs tightly with both hands. "I just kept seeing her there, lying in a pool of her own blood with that stunned expression on her face—"

Mia's voice caught, her throat too tight to allow words. She was shaking slightly, and she clenched her teeth in an effort to steady her breathing. "I knew as long as I wore the badge it would stay with me. Rachel wasn't just my partner; she was the first real friend I ever had. That kind of loss doesn't fade over time. So, I left the force and started over. Tried to forget."

"Did it work?"

"No," Mia admitted. "And it didn't become bearable until I met Jane—Jane Foster."

"Thor's girl."

A short laugh. "I don't know if she's 'Thor's girl' per say, but yes. That Jane Foster." She tried to smile softly, but it was more of a grimace. Still, her body began to relax, the horrifying images being replaced by the smiling face of her astrophysicist friend. "Jane was the only one who could get through to me. I was so bitter, so angry that that agent that shot Rachel got off scot free— got to have a _life, _when she didn't. All she ever wanted to do was help people, and he took all that from her in less than a second."

The dim buzzing of the lights above them filled Mia's pause, Steve's rhythmic breathing beside her oddly calming. "Jane helped me find myself again. If it wasn't for her, I'd probably either be dead or in jail, for murder. I owe everything to Jane Foster."

Steve sat, taking it in. "Is that why you don't believe in love?" he asked quietly. "Because of Rachel?"

"That's…beside the point," Mia said, carefully sidestepping the topic.

"I don't think it is." Now it was Steve's turn to take a deep breath. "Before I became…this," he began. "Before I enlisted or had my procedure, I had someone, a friend like your Rachel. His name was Bucky."

Mia had heard the story of James Buchannan Barnes on more than one occasion, but nothing could be more accurate and truthful than the account straight from Captain America. As much as she besmirched those who lied and cheated, she deeply respected those who told the truth at any cost, and truthfulness was something she prided her work on. Only cold clear facts made it into her column, not slander. In all honesty, Mia felt slightly guilty at her excitement about hearing something so important from someone she hardly knew, yet was so iconic.

Given, she had just shared with him one of her deepest darkest secrets. But he didn't know that he was the first person she'd ever told about her stint with the police. Even Jane didn't know about Rachel.

"Bucky was my best friend," Steve said, his voice decidedly even yet quiet, too quiet for a man of his size. "He always looked out for me growing up, even after…after my mother died." He paused. Mia was still trying to collect herself after her almost-breakdown, and focused on her breathing. "He stood up for me, tried to keep me out of trouble—though that didn't always work out the way he planned. I couldn't turn down a fight, to my own detriment at times.

"Bucky enlisted before me, and shipped out before I was recruited into Doctor Erskine's program. I didn't see him until after I had become what I am now. He hardly recognized me," he added, a slight smile on his face. "Asked me if it was 'permanent'."

"Sounds like a good guy," Mia said, her voice still tremulous. Steve nodded.

"The best," he said fondly, then grew serious. "Bucky was captured with his squadron by HYDRA forces early on. Rescuing him and the rest of the 107th was my first mission—and I wasn't exactly following orders to do so. You probably know all this already."

"It's better coming from you than from a stale textbook," Mia promised. She flexed her sore fingers wearily.

Steve gave her an appreciative sideways look. "Thanks. A lot of people would have been calling _me _the stale textbook."

"Hardly," Mia said, obviously sincere. "And you're welcome." As much as Mia wanted to dislike Steve, as much as she wanted to keep him as only an ally, each word he spoke only made her respect him more—not as a national symbol, but as a person.

"I haven't talked to anyone about Bucky since…" he trailed off, as if unable to continue.

"Since you woke up?"

"Yeah." Steve ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. "You're not the only one afraid to trust."

Mia gave a careful half nod in reply, unsure of what to say.

"Anyway, fast forward to one of our last missions. We were hijacking a HYDRA train that was carrying their best scientist, Zola. Bucky was with me—we were the first two down on the cars, breaking in. We took down a few guards, made it forward a few cars—and then these soldiers showed up, heavily armed. I was fighting on one end of the car, when Bucky was on the other trying to fight off the second guy." He was tense beside her, his entire body rigid. Mia fought the urge to reach out and comfort him, dismissing it as unprofessional.

"At one point, I lost my shield. Bucky ended up picking it up to protect himself—he'd lost his gun by this point—and…" Steve let out his breath in a short huff. "The HYDRA weapons didn't use bullets. They were like these." He kicked a crate in barely controlled anger. "They used the Cube's energy as ammunition. The shot intended for Bucky bounced off my shield, and blew a hole in the car. I took the guy down, and tried to get to Bucky—he was hanging from a pipe, over the edge of the track." Steve's breathing was picking up as much as Mia's had, his eyes scanning frantically as if replaying the scene in his mind's eye. "I couldn't reach him, Mia. He fell to his death because I couldn't reach him in time."

"Steve…" Mia's voice caught, her raw emotion spilling over into sympathy. "Steve, it wasn't your fault."

For a moment, Steve said nothing. Mia was slightly afraid he would explode at her, in his current state. To her surprise, however, he reached over and grasped her hand warmly, firmly in his large gloved one.

Mia looked up at him, shocked at the intimate gesture. She found Steve with blue eyes drowning in grief and tears. "Mia, you know that I can't believe that," he whispered. She could see the desperate sadness in his face, lines that she hadn't noticed before and circles under his eyes—and the knowing, the knowing that she too still blamed herself for her friend's death, even years later. That it never really leaves you, no matter how you try to forget.

"I know," Mia sighed, leaning into his dark blue clad shoulder. "I know."

The last thing Mia had expected to share with Captain America was her misery. She had thought him to be nothing more than the muscle, the leader. The soldier. Funny, she thought, how quickly her opinions had changed.

At the moment, Mia cared more about Steve Rogers than anyone else aboard the helicarrier—because he had just become more than an ally—he had become a friend.

After a few minutes of her mind whirling, emotions raging and a certain indignant feeling stemming from the fact that America had cost its living legend his closest friend—another unforgivable strike in her book.

"SHIELD's not going to get away with this, Steve," Mia said, clenching her jaw. She pulled away from his arm, still holding his hand tightly. Steve looked at her silently, questioningly as she glared at the toes of her boots. "I'm not going to let them. This is what I do, and this is where it ends. "

The captain dropped her hand, making Mia tense in alarm. Had she said something wrong? Did it matter? He didn't have to like what she was doing; it was going to stop her from—

"No." Steve was looking down at her, a hand extended. In his other hand was one of the Phase 2 weapons, and his weariness had been replaced by a steely resolve, anger. "_We_ are not going to let them."

Tossing aside every instinct her anarchical mind was throwing at her, Mia reached up and took his hand.

Screw the government, screw SHIELD: she had Captain America on her side.

. . .

Loki paced in his cell, a vaguely perturbed expression on his pale face, dark brows furrowed.

He had not expected his Intended to be so unmoved by his words.

As oddly affected as he'd been by her presence—standing in the same room as her had given him jitters that were far below someone of his status—the god of mischief found himself facing a bitter realization.

His Intended didn't need him. His Intended didn't _want_ him.

Therefore, what did the fate of his Intended matter?

He should have been relieved by this revelation. Instead it made him uneasy, rekindling his sense of rejection and justification in his current course of action. And more surprisingly, his interest in his Intended wasn't lessened—if anything, he was more curious about her.

She was beautiful, no doubt. Loki had taken his time with her to commit her features to memory. She had a heart-shaped face, a pair of softly arched brows, faintly rosy cheeks and cupid bow lips that were most often pursed in a line thoughtfully. She was slender, but not thin; long, but not lanky. She had a grace and poise that betrayed her upbringing, an agility that gave away her training as a peacekeeper, and a surety of stature that told of her inherent confidence.

Perhaps her most attractive feature though, was her green eyes—Loki found them especially mesmerizing. Dark hair tumbled down around her face and framed those eyes, making their brightness and vigilance even more apparent.

Those were just her physical attributes. This wasn't even taking into her account her keen intelligence, and the quick wit that challenged his own. A voice that she wasn't afraid to use—not to mention the fact she remained nearly unaffected by his attempts to weaken her. Her act of defeat had nearly fooled him—she was an exceptionally believable liar.

The thing that bothered him most about her, though, was her entrenched sense of morality. Her sarcastic streak alone told of a deep mistrust of others. How could someone who had suffered almost as much injustice as he had, still have such a strong obligation to seek truth in all things? It was illogical, and strange to Loki. By all rights she ought to be as bitter and vengeful as he felt.

Instead, it seemed, her hatred was limited to very specific individuals—her parents, for instance, and the man who had senselessly slaughtered her one-time companion. Those who openly sought to lie to innocent people, for the sake of power. It appeared that he was the perfect image of all she hated in the world.

And she was his Intended.

Not that that mattered to her. Just because he was bound to her didn't mean she was bound to him. As the mortal in the situation, she could fall in love with someone else and forget him entirely. Only Loki would feel the pain of separation, if she chose not to return his affections. It was extremely possible that she would find another, someone who embodied the truth and light she sought so eagerly—perhaps the Captain, who was as perfect an example of goodness as any could hope for. Why else would he be such a hero to his country, such an idol?

Loki slammed a fist against the glass wall of his cage in anger. Despite Fury's warnings, it didn't drop him out of the carrier and into the sky, tumbling towards his demise. He knew the man's threats had been a general attempt to dissuade him from any kind of escape attempt. It mattered not: Loki's escape would come to him.

But did he want to escape, if it meant leaving without her?

The angry, bitter, prideful part of Loki told him to forget the insignificant mortal female, and to seek a better long term companion. Better yet, why need a long term companion at all? Temporary associations were sufficient for someone of his importance.

Yet another, less resolute part of him fought against the indifference of its stronger, more dangerous counterpart. She _was _significant—she had an amazing gift, if only she would use it. Loki had to admit, all of his plans had been made with the however improbable scenario of his Intended's existence in a corner of his mind.

And he now that he had found his Intended, and laid eyes on her, how could he ever forget? How could he leave her to her own affairs, and walk away forging his own solitary path to glory? If he did so— and even if he achieved all of his goals, with the Earth under his uncontestable rule— the question of what could have been would drive him mad.

He returned to pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. No, he couldn't leave her—of only for the sake of the puzzle she posed him. But she didn't _want _him—even thinking it brought a slight cringe to the demi-god's shoulders—and wouldn't come with him willingly. Her friends were out of his reach, as by some fateful and ill-fortuned twist her nearest and dearest consisted of Thor's Intended and her servant, and were thus under strict protection.

How then, to convince her to join him?

Loki halted mid-stride, an eerie smile playing on his lips. Maybe it wasn't about convincing her to join him, as much as it was about convincing her not to stay where she was now.

It was at that moment he felt a prickle on the back of his neck—and he grinned more widely.

"There's not many who can sneak up on me," he intoned, thinking all the while, _so this is how I shall win her. How simple, really. _ He turned to face the woman who stood waiting for his attention.

"But you figured I'd come," Romanoff stated dryly.

"After."

_So it begins._

. . .

"Hill."

On the bridge, Fury turned suspiciously to his head agent.

"Yes sir?" Hill stood at attention, her face set in her usual serious and attentive expression.

"Loki seems oddly distressed after his interaction with Paxton," the director said, stepping aside to show her a live feed of Loki, pacing in his cell. "Any ideas why?"

Hill thought carefully. If she said the wrong thing, no doubt Fury would send someone to find Paxton and bring her to him for questioning. Given as she had just passed the access key to SHIELD's top secret special ops program to the journalist and told her where to find it, it would be a fatal mistake to allow that to happen.

"No, sir," Hill replied evenly. "But Mia assured me that the entirety of her findings will be ready for you to view at the prearranged meeting time. And I'm certain that Widow will extract any information crucial to Loki's plan."

"Sure you are," Fury said ambiguously, glaring at her with his good eye. Hill didn't flinch under his powerful gaze. "Just remember where your alliances lie, agent."

Hill could have sworn her heartbeat spiked at this—but didn't have time to assess her situation as the room around them was abruptly filled with the sound of blaring computers.

"What in the name of God Almighty is this?" Fury demanded, glowering at the chaos around him. Hill was already on the move, grateful for the diversion. In a matter of seconds she was at the nearest computer, reading the alert.

"Sir, we've been hacked," she informed him.

Fury gained a seriously annoyed expression—but he didn't seemed surprised. Disappointed, was more like it.

"Stark," was all he said, before storming out of the bridge towards the lab.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Back in the lab, Tony was poring over SHIELD's secure files—particularly the ones pertaining to something called 'Phase 2'.

"Look at this," Tony was saying, appalled. "I haven't seen encryption this heavy since the Oscorp files Mia brought me. JARVIS is having a hell of a time getting through this."

Beside him was Banner, who had been uncomfortable with examining SHIELD's files, but had been willing to help find the ones belonging to Mia Paxton. He was squinting, scrolling down a list of names.

"I'm not seeing any files marked 'Paxton' in this listing, Stark," Banner said flatly. He could feel the beginnings of a tension headache in his temples.

Tony frowned. "That's odd. This is the entire SHIELD database, including their registrar of current consultants. She should be on this list. Unless…" His eyes widened with realization. "Oh. Banner, scroll up to the S-T section."

Confused, Banner did as he'd been asked.

"We're not on this list either," Tony stated, and took the screen. He briskly entered in a strand of command prompts, and then typed in his own name. A look of triumph crossed his face. "Bingo," he said, gesturing to the screen.

Banner leaned in closely. "What's the 'Superhero Registration Act'?" he questioned.

"No idea," Tony stated. "Some sort of roster, apparently. But no matter. The important thing is this." He tapped on the file marked PAXTON, AMELIA N.

A few minutes passed in silence as both men read the screen's contents, page after page. Eventually, they began to speak.

"Oh my…"

"What the hell?"

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"Look at this! Oh my god, Mia _was_ hiding something. I _knew _it!"

"But…she _died_! It was in the news!"

"What the…oh shit. Shit, this is not good."

"I can't believe this. I mean I knew that she…but…fuck, Mia, seriously?" Tony finished this in a shocked whisper. "No wonder you do what you do…"

It took a few moments before each scientist had had enough—and Banner unsurprisingly gave up first, leaning back against the wall in horror.

"I should have known," he said dully, as Tony finished reading Mia's files.

"Well, that's SHIELD for you," Tony replied, shaking his head.

Banner gave a silent nod. "Mia and I were talking about that very thing…well it's not even Mia though, is it?" He looked at Stark, bewildered.

"I have to admit that even I didn't see this coming," Tony confessed. He shook his head, flicking aside the files to check on JARVIS' progress.

It was at that precise moment that Director Fury came striding into the room, apparently on the warpath.

"What are you doing, Mister Stark?" Fury demanded coldly.

"Uh, kind of wondering the same thing about you," Tony replied, equally harsh.

"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract."

"We are," Banner interjected. "The model's locked, and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit"—he pointed behind the director to a set of screens—"we'll have the location within half a mile."

"Yeah then you get your cube back. No muss, no fuss." Tony paused to take a look at the screen, still loading new data as JARVIS finished processing it. "What _is_ Phase 2?"

A harsh bang resonated through the room, as a large machine gun hit the metal of a desk. "Phase 2 is SHIELD uses the Cube to make weapons," Rogers announced, still looking royally pissed. Beside him, Mia stood, arms crossed against her chest and a vaguely defiant look on her face. "Sorry, computer was moving a little slow for me."

"Ah if it isn't the Capsicle and his little girlfriend, here to save the day," Tony said, just dripping with sarcasm. "Fitting when you think about it; considering who she is."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Steve asked, angrily.

"For Christ's sake Tony, I'm _not _his girlfriend!" added an exasperated Mia. Steve gave her a sideways look, but said nothing.

"Rogers, Paxton. We gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not _mean_ that we're making…"

"I'm sorry, Nick. What were you lying?" Tony turned the screen to face the others, now showing a diagram of various weapons.

"Oh come on, Fury," Mia deadpanned. "I've known about Phase 2 for months. Do you really think this is news? Surprising, considering this _used _to be an intelligence organization."

"And how exactly did _you _find out?" Fury demanded irritably. Steve scowled at his tone, and stepped ever-so-slightly further in front of Mia, glaring at the journalist.

"Well, I didn't hack into the Triskelion, if you're wondering. Let's just say that SHIELD security isn't what it used to be." Mia cast a cautious eye at Steve before glancing past him at the screen. "Hey, is that a _missile?_"

"I was wrong, Director. The world hasn't changed a bit," Steve said, his disgust apparent.

"Did you know about this?" Banner asked Romanoff, as the agent entered the lab flanked by none other than the god of thunder himself.

"You want to think about removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?" Romanoff asked, casting wary eyes at Banner as if he might spontaneously combust at any moment.

"I was in Calcutta," Banner countered with a slight but bitter laugh. "I was pretty well removed."

"Loki is manipulating you," the redheaded agent pressed, moving in on the scientist.

"And you've been doing what, exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because you suddenly get a little twitchy. I'd like to know," Banner pressed, "why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

"And why," Mia added, "it hasn't been addressed in any public or political form. All nuclear projects are currently under strict governmental control."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Tony seemed intent on firing as many snarky comments at her as possible.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mia said angrily, stepping around Steve. The Captain immediately threw an arm out to stop her from advancing. "Are you questioning my methods, Stark?"

"Ooh, we're back to Stark now. I'm so hurt," Tony said, pouting and casting a hand over his heart. "No. I'm hurt by the fact that you've been lying to me for as long as I've known you—which, I'd like to add, has been years."

"What are you trying to say?" Fury asked.

"Oh, you have nothing to say to me about this," Tony said, holding up a silencing hand at the director. "This is beyond your withholding information." He turned back to Mia. "I trusted you. Pepper trusted you. Does Jane even know about this?"

"Know about what?" Steve demanded. "Stop being so damn cryptic, Stark." He was keeping a close eye on Mia, and it bothered her. It felt like he thought she couldn't handle herself—something Mia would seriously resent, if he kept it up much longer.

"About who she really is!" Tony burst out, glaring daggers at the journalist. "Not Mia Paxton; Mia Paxton was my friend. Mia Paxton wouldn't have done this—but then again, there's no such person, is there?"

Mia's stomach curdled.

"What do you mean?" Thor asked, plainly confused. "Jane has told me much about Lady Mia, they are close friends."

"So you haven't told her then. Fantastic."

"Stark, you are out-of-line."

"Am I, Nick? I don't think I am."

"Paxton agreed to work with us on a strictly professional level. Understanding Loki's motives are of utmost priority; I think we can all _agree_—"

"And _there_ we go with the lying again." Tony shook his head. "Do you ever tell the truth? Ever?" Seeing Fury wasn't going to reply, Tony went on. "You've got her under surveillance, Nick. That's why she's here—on the helicarrier, she's not a threat, and she's out of danger. Or so, I assume, was the thought."

"I can understand why Mia needs to be kept out of danger, but why is she a threat?" Steve suddenly asked. Romanoff cast accusatory eyes at Mia. It felt as if the room was turning against her. _Keep calm Mia. Don't let them in…_

"Because she's…how would you put it? The 'First Girl'?" Tony said.

Romanoff rolled her eyes at the title, Thor looked even more bewildered.

"The 'First Girl'?" Steve repeated doubtfully.

"That's right." Tony threw his hands up. "For those of us too dim to see the light like Capsicle here, I'll put it plainly. Allow me to present to the audience the long presumed dead, Miss Bridget Winters."

"Winters?" Steve still looked a bit confused. Oh god, Mia didn't want to see his face when he finally pieced it together—

"She's the freaking President's daughter, Cap. Try and keep up." Tony could be verbally brutal when angry. Each of his words cut Mia deeply.

There it was. The realization, the disappointment. Mia didn't usually mind being disappointing—she'd been doing that her entire life—but something about the look on Steve's face injured her in a way she hadn't been in a long time.

And it hurt, just as much as it had the first.

. . .

_Bridget was sixteen when she discovered what her father was really doing for a living. _

_As the President of the United States, he had plenty of secrets—more than Bridget ever cared to know. _

_She knew without trying that her father was having an affair and her mother was racking up bills in an effort to console herself. She knew that 9/11 actually _was _an inside job, like many conspiracy theorists thought—though that hadn't been her father's doing, but his predecessors. She knew that the war overseas was an effort to establish American bases in otherwise non-American territory. And she knew that the financial crisis currently gripping the nation was a blatant attempt to gain the Congress' approval on a program that would lead to the termination of America's crippling dependence on China._

_But what she didn't understand was that the President—her father—was using her inherent gift as a blueprint. _

"_A giant leap in the march towards greatness," was how he'd put it, in the first draft of what he called 'Project Midas'. Bridget had come across the document while searching the Oval Office late one night for her father's lucky pen._

_What had started as an attempt to write her Yale admissions essay turned into a covert investigation. Bridget had swiped the original, using her magic to create a second copy so as not to arouse suspicion. It had taken her weeks to understand the gist of the document, which was mostly written in a combination of Masonic shorthand and scientific mumbo-jumbo interspersed with English. While her father had been cryptic enough in his explanations, she had been able to understand that it was some sort of scientific experiment, an enhancement program. _

_Bridget knew that her father was a scientist at heart. What she hadn't realized was that he was still active in his previous profession—she'd thought he'd given it up after being elected into office. It was clear that that wasn't the case, after all._

_In his files, her father kept referencing the Erskine Procedure, and something called the Super-Soldier Program. There were also references to a project "being conducted in NY, filed under Genesis (Oscorp), which is showing promising results thus far."_

_After a few trips to the library, Bridget had discovered that the Program in question was directly linked with one person in particular: Captain America. Bridget knew his story like the back of her hand—his exhibit at the Smithsonian was her little sister's favorite; they went every time. She knew that he had been in some sort of enhancement program as well, with the result being a nearly perfect 'human condition'. _

_Apparently, her father viewed him as more than just a national hero—he was the epitome of scientific success in the genetic enhancement field. Consequently, 'Project Midas' was dedicated to none other than Steve Rogers. _

_It sounded horrifying, the project; like something out of _Frankenstein. _Patients were injected with various metallic substances, in a liquid form, and were then exposed to different variations of light: ranging from ultraviolet to radioactive levels. It was eerily similar to the steps involved in the Erskine Procedure, Bridget noted, with one major exception: the outcome. _

_It took her several months, an endless amount of snooping, and a hack into her father's personal computer before she fully understood. In less heavily encoded documents, she found reference to 'specimen B', which appeared to be their prototype. 'Specimen B' appeared to inherently possess the traits they hoped to induce in their 'patients', and was a sort of goal to work towards, like Steve Rogers was to those hoping to replicate the serum._

_It got worse. Bridget managed to clone her father's laptop, and was able to watch him type his reports word for word. Apparently what was being disguised as the dissolution of the four year term was actually a private agreement between her father and several major corporations—including Oscorp—for the further development of Project Midas. She was appalled by the horrific disregard for the actual _politics _of the situation._ By the people, for the people, _her father had used to say—now, it appeared he had cast aside all of his ideals in an effort to further his cause. _

_Finally, she caught a break. Bridget was observing from her cloned laptop one night in the safety of her room. She watched him type out the report of a rather discouraging day at the laboratory—she'd yet to discover where said laboratory was—when her father typed, "Bridget continues to do well, demonstrating perfect control of matter, with no obvious side effects. Project Midas will continue to strive towards replicating that ability." _

_Bridget was confused—that is, until her father realized his mistake, backspaced her name and replaced it with 'specimen B'._

'_Project Midas' wasn't an attempt to recreate the Super-Soldier serum, or anything like it. It was an attempt to create other people with her abilities—forcibly, under the protection of the American government and the eye of the President himself. _

_It was this revelation that broke Bridget. _

_She stopped using her powers, unable to live with herself. People were being tortured because of HER. _

_Knowing that confronting her father was far too dangerous, Bridget decided to run away. She knew from her father's notes that within the walls of the White House, she was under constant monitoring—all of her biological systems were being tracked, recorded, and used as a part of Project Midas. But they were deleted each night from the servers—meaning, Project Midas needed new data each day to sustain. Without her, the Project would die—and she meant to starve it. _

_The night Bridget broke out was a full moon. It was dark outside, though—soon to be made darker still by the fact that Bridget had hacked her way into the security system to disable the outdoor lighting and defenses. It was risky, but she didn't exactly have guilt about putting her father in danger anymore. The only person she was truly concerned about was her sister. _

_Clemency was ten years younger than Bridget, and was her complete opposite. Clem was ordinary, weak even. She had been sickly as an infant and that had never really changed as she grew. Clemency Winters was a quiet child at six— small, and thin, and pale most of the time, with long blond hair usually down her back in a thin braid. _

_Since Clem had been born, Bridget was her protector. She had done all she could to help take care of her, especially when sick. It nearly tore Bridget's heart in two to leave her behind now, even with the weight of all of her father's experiment on her shoulders. Leaving Clemency weighed more, and her conscience was the only thing that drove her to go anyway._

_That night, the night she escaped, Bridget had made the worst possible mistake she could have—she ran in to her sister while breaking out. _

_The frail blond had fallen to the floor with hardly a bump, hair falling into her face._

"_Clem?" Bridget had gasped in shock. "What are you doing up?"_

"_Getting water," Clem replied quietly, blue eyes wide as saucers at the sight of her older sister dressed all in black with a backpack on. "Where—where are you going?" she whispered in panic. _

_Bridget quickly helped her sister to her feet, doing her routine check for broken bones. Clem had extremely brittle bones that could crack easily, even from something as simple as a tumble. Seeing the girl was fine, Bridget brought Clemency out of the hallway, into the alcove and shadow of a doorway. "Clem," she began, but found words wouldn't come. _

"_You're running away, aren't you?" Clem asked, understanding crossing her face. She didn't sound surprised though, which in turn surprised Bridget. _

"_You don't seem surprised."_

"_Of course not," Clem said plainly. "Dad treats you horribly, even though you've never done anything to hurt anyone." The girl's face tensed in a way that was too old for her features. "It's wrong, Iggy," she declared. "You can't help your gift." _

_Bridget felt a horrible, gut wrenching pang of guilt at this statement. Of course, Clemency couldn't know what her father was doing. It had been difficult enough for Bridget to figure out as an extremely gifted sixteen year old. _

"_I know," she muttered. "But that doesn't change things. Dad sees me as…" A lot of things, she thought. A 'specimen', most importantly. "…A monster," she finished. "I can't live like that. And I can't keep my secret if I'm always in the camera."_

_Clemency sighed, with a lot more decorum than the average six year old. "We knew this day wouldn't come, didn't we?"_

"_Yeah." Bridget said nothing, letting the silence hang between them like the teddy bear hanging from Clem's tiny fist. "I'm sorry," she added finally. _

"_Its…its okay," Clemency said. Always a trooper. But Bridget could see in her eyes that it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all. _

"_I have to go," Bridget said suddenly, knowing that her hacking device was on a timer—she had a certain timeframe to get out of the building, and she had to meet it or she might never get out. _

"_Okay." Clem wrapped her arms around Bridget's legs, at the knees. "Be safe out there."_

_Bridget bit her lip to keep herself from crying. And then…it hit her. _

_She straightened up, resolute. "We will be," she said firmly. _

_Clem looked up at her, confused. "What?"_

"_You think I'd leave you here by yourself, with them?" Bridget scoffed quietly. "No way. I'm taking you with me."_

_Clem's big blue eyes suddenly swarmed with tears. "Really?" she asked breathlessly._

"_You bet, dolly." Bridget bent down and scooped her sister up, Clem's frail form not taking up too much space in her arms, teddy included. _

"_Okay." Clem's response was barely a whisper in Bridget's ear—and yet it broke her heart. God, she loved her sister. How could she ever have considered leaving her behind?_

_Together, the two girls made their way out of the building just as the security system went down, bathing them in darkness. _

"_Don't worry, Clem," Bridget soothed, having heard her sister's sharp intake of breath as the lights went out. Shouts began to ring out in the distance, and Bridget quickened her pace, desperate to put more space between them and the guards she knew were stationed not far off. _

_She knew the agents in the House would immediately rush to her parent's quarters, so she cut outside as quickly as possible, the cold winter air hitting her face like a sting. Clem was tucked against her tightly— the thin nightgown she was wearing wasn't much of a protection from the elements. It was only October, but very cold. _

_She saw flashlight beams crisscrossing as reflections in the windows opposite. Bridget hunched in on herself, trying to shield the bright white of Clemency's nightgown from the lights. _

_They had almost made it onto the rear lawn when they rounded the last corner of the house._

"_Hey!" a sharp shout cut through the alarms now blaring inside the House, and a beam landed on the girls. "Over here!"_

_Bridget swore under her breath, then regretted it as Clem had undoubtedly heard. She wrapped her arm more firmly around her sister. "Hold tight, Clem. We're almost—" _

_Her sentence was cut off when she ran smack into another guard, this one having just rounded the connecting corner at the same moment. With a sharp crack Bridget's forehead collided with his chin, a spurt of blood that wasn't her own dripping down into her eyes. _

_The next moment, Bridget was sprawled face first on the ground with a mouthful of frosted, rotting leaves. Clem was in the arms of the guard and not hers. The tiny blond was struggling, trying to get back to her sister. "Iggy!"_

"_Clem." Bridget dragged herself to her feet, vision swimming. The guard was backing towards the house, radioing frantically for reinforcements._

"_Iggy!" _

"_Clem." _

_She blinked and swiped at her eyes, trying to focus. She could see Clem now, her nightgown pale and ghostly in the moonlight. She was kicking her legs, making Bridget fear that she would break something. _

_She could see Clem's expression now: it wasn't of fear, but worry. "Iggy, go! Run!" she yelled frantically. She guard tried to cover her mouth, but she bit him. He pulled his hand away with a yelp. "_RUN!_" Clem managed to yell once more, before the guard pressed something to her face. Clem immediately went still in his arms. _

"_CLEM!" Bridget screamed. She could see her father's personal agents swarming out the back door—they would be on her in a matter of seconds, if she didn't go._

_So, with no other alternative, Bridget did as her sister had wanted. _

_She ran. _

_One week later, Bridget Amelia Winters was officially pronounced dead, murdered by foreign assassins during an attack on the White House. _

_The funeral was beautiful. Bridget watched on TV, in a café miles and miles away from where her empty casket was lowered into the ground. Clem wore white. Pretty, like a china doll, and just as frail. She didn't cry. _

_Bridget did. _

_Two months later, Mia H. Paxton applied for police training._

_Three years later, her partner was murdered—actually murdered. It was the first time Mia cried since that night._

_Four years later, and she'd met Jane._

_It had been nine years, six months, and twenty six days since that night, and Mia never forgot what Bridget had done. She never forgot the look in Clem's eyes when Bridget had failed her. _

. . .

That was why it killed her now, she realized. Steve had those same, blue eyes—she could have sworn they were even the same shade of blue. It broke Mia in a special way that nothing Tony would ever say could. She couldn't breathe.

"Mia?" Steve asked, disbelievingly. _Iggy?_

Tears pricked at Mia's eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Tony shrugged. "Well, you know something? It's been a pretty revealing day. We've learned the real reason SHIELD wants the Tesseract, Mia's now the President's dead daughter, oh! And I've missed the best part." He snapped, clapped and pointed at Mia. "Loki thinks he's in love with her. How you like them apples, eh kiddo?"

"What." Fury looked ready to kill someone.

"You heard me. Loki thinks Mia's his something whatever…" he gestured to Thor. "Point break here didn't tell you yet?"

"Intended," Thor finished. "And I was attempting to locate the Director when agent Romanoff told me to return here."

"Intended, right. So basically to recap: the Asgardian version of a soul mate. Explains the whole 'mesmerizing enchantress' thing, doesn't it?"

"What?!" Mia was outraged. "You're kidding me, right?" She turned to Tony irritably. "This is just an attempt to get back at me for keeping secrets, isn't it Stark?"

"You wish, cupcake. Looks like Loki's got the hots for you."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Sure. Sure he does. That explains the flirting."

"That's…ridiculous," Steve said after a moment. His face was twisted into one of mild disgust.

"What, too archaic for the old man? Or are you just upset that a god just called dibs on your girlfriend?"

"He doesn't have _dibs_ on _anybody!"_ Steve retorted fiercely. Mia was too deep in thought to bother reiterating that she wasn't his girlfriend.

"Ridiculous or not," Fury interrupted, "if Loki thinks he has any kind of hold over Paxton, bringing her here might have been the worst thing we could have done." Romanoff looked grim.

"I'm sorry, is there anyone named Paxton here after all?" Tony was really going long with it. "I'm sure Miss _Winters_ would—"

"Bridget Winters died nine years ago!" Mia yelled at him, snapping harshly back to reality. "Her coffin might lie empty in Arlington Cemetery, but she does _not_ exist anymore, Stark." Her face was a hard façade, hiding the turmoil inside.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, apparently not in a sympathetic mood. "Why _did _she die then?" he asked. "Because I'm guessing it wasn't an assassination like the papers said."

"Stark," Fury said, glaring at the man in silent warning.

"Well, come on then. The Mia Paxton I knew stood for truth, honesty, and the unraveling of the political myth as we know it. Do _her _a favor, and enlighten us."

Mia stood, blinking slowly with more focus than necessary in order to remain calm. "Because," she bit out, "of the one hundred and seventy two lives on her hands." She looked up at Stark, green eyes dilated to pinpricks. "Because she was a monster that inspired one of the world's worst men to do something so horrible, so unthinkable…"

"Project Midas," Fury finished. Tony's eyes widened in surprise.

"She…" Tony was officially gob smacked. "So the President _was_ involved in that project."

"Bridget Winters was a killer," Mia said solemnly. "And Mia Paxton is the one who tries to pick up the pieces of what she did."

"What could Mia—_Bridget_, possibly have done to—" Banner began, when Fury cut him off.

"What happened nine years ago is not important right now. What matters is that Paxton is now in direct danger, and needs to be removed into protective custody."

"Mia's not going anywhere!" Steve said, stepping in front of the journalist.

"Does anybody want to answer my question?" Banner demanded. "Anybody?"

Fury turned back to the Doctor, still glaring. "Because of him," he announced, pointing an accusing finger at Thor.

"Me?" Thor seemed confused.

Fury began advancing on the god. "Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town," he said. "We learned that not only are we not alone, we are hopelessly—_hilariously —_outgunned."

Banner looked far from convinced.

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet," said Thor.

"As made apparent by Loki's pending engagement," Tony added, raising an eyebrow.

"Like fuck it is!" Steve scowled at Mia's swearing. "I'll be damned if I'm going to be involved in _any way _with that man!"

"My brother is disturbed now, but he has many virtues as well. If you would but delay your decision until all is settled, Lady Mia, I think you may find him more suitable."

"You mean_ after_ we unravel his plans for world domination? Because I'm really sure that I'm going to suddenly see what amazing romance material he is _then_!"

"You're not the only people out there, are you?" Fury interjected. "_And_ you're not the only threat." He cast a wary look at Mia, who was fuming behind the Captain and failing to look indifferent. In actuality she was trying to get a grip on herself before she lost what little composure she still had. "The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, that can't be controlled."

"Like you controlled the Cube?" Steve said, looking to his side. Mia was more shaken up than he had ever seen her—even when speaking about her deceased partner. Whatever had happened nine years before, whatever had made her hide her true identity…it was bad. Really bad.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies," Thor said insistently. "It is a signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a _higher form of war."_

"A higher form?" Fury repeated, sounding disgusted. "You forced our hand. We had to come up with something—"

"A nuclear deterrent," Tony interjected, hands in his pockets. "Because that always calms everything right down."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark."

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck-deep…" Steve began, stepping forward.

"Wait wait. Hold on. How is this now about me?"

Steve actually glared at the man. "I'm sorry, isn't everything?"

"I thought humans were more evolved than this," Thor said, looking at Fury as if for an explanation as to why they were so much less than he'd expected.

"Some of us are," Romanoff muttered, throwing Mia a knowing look.

"You've read my file?" Mia demanded. Of course Widow would know. Of course.

"Of course I've read your file," Romanoff scoffed, as if reading Mia's mind.

"Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?" Fury was now in a face-off with Thor.

"You treat your champions with such mistrust."

"Are you both really that naïve?" Romanoff looked at both Thor and Mia as if they were truly idiots. "SHIELD monitors potential threats."

"Captain America and the President's daughter are on threat watch?" Banner questioned in disbelief.

"We all are."

"I'm a political journalist!"

"Wait, you're on that list?" Tony asked Steve, looking unimpressed. "Are you above or below angry bees?"

"Stark, so help me God, if you make one more wisecrack…"

"Threat! Verbal threat. I feel threatened!"

"Show some respect," Steve demanded.

"Respect for what? Mia of all people knows how ludicrous this situation is."

"Don't bring her into this."

"Don't leave me out! And don't put words in my mouth, Stark."

"Paxton…" It was the first time Steve had called her Paxton in a long time. Mia had to admit, she didn't necessarily like it. It felt like a punch to her gut, given what they'd been through so far.

She clenched her fists, trying to force down the anger she felt creeping up inside of her. _Don't let it out, Mia, for God's sake don't let it out…_

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos," Thor said.

"That his MO, isn't it?" Banner pointed out. He glanced around the room, brown eyes full of mistrust. "I mean what are we, a team? No. No, we're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're…" His words caught. "We're a time bomb," he finished.

"You," Fury insisted, "and Paxton, need to step away."

"Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?" Tony asked, slapping a hand to Rogers' shoulder.

"You know damn well why, back off!" Steve swatted Tony's hand away harshly.

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me." Tony said, radiating macho vibes. He peered around the soldier at the woman behind. "And what is it Mia can do that you're so frightened of, Nick? She's not going to interview you to death."

But Steve was moving in on Tony now, circling him in an assessing way. "Yeah. Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?"

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

Romanoff arched an eyebrow as if impressed. Mia rolled her eyes.

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you," Steve said, looking down at Tony as if he were nothing. "I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I'd just cut the wire."

Mia could hear something in Tony's tone that was slightly vulnerable. She knew from her research back when she was investigating Stark that his father had idolized Steve, had dedicated a large portion of his life trying to find him under the ice. It didn't take much of a reach to think that Tony had a hard time taking this from the man who was probably his hero growing up. Not that he would show it: he was Tony Stark, and that kind of emotion was below him.

Steve narrowed his eyes, giving a little sardonic laugh. "Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero." Ouch.

"A hero? Like you?" Ah, there it was. Tony got right up in Steve's face, unblinking. "You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a _bottle_."

"Cheap shot, Ironass." Mia looked far from impressed, with either man. She saw Steve tense at Tony's words, and a new wave of anger flooded her. Steve wasn't special because of what happened to him. She had seen firsthand how special he was, and it didn't have to do with physical enhancement. It had to do with what was in his heart. "Can't we just stop with the testosterone battle, and focus on the issue at hand please?"

"What, like the issue of your identity?" Tony replied coldly. "The President's daughter, I never would have seen that coming." He turned to face her, creating a triangle between her, Steve, and himself. "And just look at you now, cat eyes. The very picture of anarchy."

"Just because I don't go around blasting heavy rock music and burning shit doesn't mean I'm not an anarchist, Tony. And, come to think of it—I just described you, didn't I?"

"You said I was taking cheap shots. That was just weak, Paxton. Way below your standards."

Mia snorted. "You know nothing about my standards, Stark." Her eyes hardened, her fists clenching more tightly. Tony was surprised to feel a niggling of fear in his stomach. "I said I was a monster. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

On the side, Fury looked ready to draw his gun. Romanoff's eyes were narrowed, and her knees bent slightly as if ready to pounce.

"Enough!" Steve stepped closer, breaking the triangle. He stood, almost nose-to-nose with Tony. "Put on the suit," he challenged. "Let's go a few rounds."

Tony smirked, his eyes flitting over to Mia. "What's the matter, Rogers? Too noble to fight a lady? Or are you scared that you don't know what she's really made of."

Steve gritted his teeth. "I trust Mia." He looked over at her firmly. "Even if you don't. If she lied, then she had a damn good reason for it. "

Mia swallowed hard and looked away. Like hell she did.

Thor began laughing. "You people are so petty," he chuckled. "And tiny."

"Yeah, this is a team," Banner scoffed, while Tony swiped at his brow. Mia silently unclenched her fists, letting a few spent grains of gold trickle to the floor as dust.

"Agent Romanoff, would you please escort Doctor Banner back to his—"

"Where?" Banner interrupted angrily. "You rented my room."

"The cell was just in case…"

"You needed to _kill _me, but you can't. I know, I tried." He shifted uncomfortably as all eyes in the room settled on him in disbelief. He shrugged. "I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth—and the Other Guy spit it out." He stared at Fury, who shifted his gaze downward almost repentantly. "So I moved on. I focused on helping other people, I was good." Banner looked around ashamedly at the group he was surrounded by. "Until you dragged me back into this freak show, and put everyone here at risk."

He turned to Mia. "Steve was right about her. She's a civilian, and what's more, she's damned important. She shouldn't be here—especially now that Loki's gone nuts over her. You messed up, Fury."

"You think I don't know that?" Fury snapped. "I've known about Paxton's identity this whole time—and unlike the rest of you, I've read the _Project Midas_ files. I _know_ what she's capable of."

Mia's face went blank. "What," she said flatly, anger dripping from the word like blood from an open wound.

"Then why on God's green Earth was it a good idea to bring her aboard the _Valiant_?" Tony demanded, eyeing her warily.

"Why was it a good idea to bring _any _of you?" Fury replied. He clasped his hands behind his back. "She's here for the same reason as all of you:_ because we needed her."_

"But _not _to evaluate Loki, am I right?" Stark said. "Because I think we all believed that for a grand total of, hmm, three seconds."

"We all have secrets here," Romanoff answered ambiguously. "Paxton is no exception."

"Yeah?" Banner grimaced at this, his eyes wild. "You wanna know my secret, agent Romanoff, do you wanna know how I stay calm?"

Everyone took a step back. Mia held her breath, trying not to panic as Fury and Romanoff reached for their guns a second time. She froze, realizing her hand had crept up to her belt level as well, even though she hadn't carried a firearm in years. Another thing Steve was right about.

"Doctor Banner," Steve ordered, his 'captain' voice resounding in the metal filled lab. "Put down the scepter."

Confused, Banner looked down at the weapon in his hand—and a look of mild repulsion crossed his face.

The computer across the room started beeping. A welcome diversion.

"Got it," Fury realized, after a moment of stunned silence.

"Sorry kids, you don't get to see my party trick after all." Banner moved towards the machine, his shoulders slumped slightly. The scepter had been placed back in its rack.

Mia was surprised when, in that half moment of silence, Steve's gloved hand rested on her lower back. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, watching her with a combination of concern and wariness.

Mia nodded mutely, her mouth too dry to form words. _Blue eyes, _was all she could think. _Blue. Eyes._

"Yeah. Fine," she managed after a moment. Steve nodded and looked away, removing the hand.

"You've located the Tesseract?" Thor asked, suddenly all business.

"I could get there fastest," Tony was proclaiming.

"The Tesseract belongs on Asgard— no human is a match for it."

Tony shouldered his way through Steve and Mia, effectively breaking them apart.

"You're not going alone," Steve told him, catching the genius by the arm.

"You're gonna stop me?"

"Put on the suit, let's find out." And there goes progress, Mia thought ruefully, as both men squared off.

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man. Especially if his girlfriend has to save his ass in a battle of wits."

"Put on the suit," Steve said through clenched teeth.

"Stark, for God's sake," Mia began, "If I have to tell you again—"

The computer cut her off with loud beeping, as if censoring her.

"Oh my God," Banner muttered, looking up at them in horror.

The next moment, the room exploded.

. . .

Everything was chaos.

The room seemed to fill with all the fires of hell as the explosion that had occurred in another nearby section of the ship rushed through the ventilation and up through the grate under their feet. Romanoff and Banner were blasted out of the lab's wide glass window, tumbling harshly down into the next level with heavy debris falling alongside them. Fury was tossed to the far side of the room, while Mia was thrown in the same direction as Steve and Tony: towards the doorway.

As soon as she'd seen the flames begin to pour out of the flooring, it was like time slowed down. Every second became three more seconds, so that what happened in about five seconds gave Mia about fifteen seconds to react. Sound ceased, and all she heard was her own pounding heart and erratic breathing.

Mia knew that she and the two men on her side of the room were actually standing on the grate most, and would be easily, horribly affected by the blast. As much as she wanted to protect all of the people in the lab she knew she only had a few seconds.

Following an inherent urge, Mia swept her hands up from the ground, palms flat as golden sparks flew from her fingertips. They formed a sort of makeshift shield, a bubble of protection that encompassed both herself and the two men behind her.

Then the blast happened. All around them were flames, shattered glass, twisted warped metal shards. All bounced off of the bubble's surface, falling to the floor in response to its power. Glass blew away from it in a semicircle as plain white sand.

And then, she caught up to real time. Around her, sirens were blaring, the room was unbearably hot, and both Stark and Rogers were staring at her, panting but otherwise unharmed.

"What?" she demanded breathlessly, dark curls clinging to her sweaty forehead.

"What the…" Steve said, too confused to come up with anything else. "Mia?"

"The Midas touch," Tony muttered, observing her with wide eyes.

She looked back at her hands—and found her shield still intact. Her defiant look quickly fell as she dropped her hands and clenched them at her sides, the shield crumbling into golden dust at her feet as smoke clouded in around them.

A strange sensation came over her, overwhelming the fact that two people had just seen her 'magic' up close and personally. It was like someone was shouting thoughts over all of that into her mind—only, it came out cool and collected, only one word in almost a seductive tone.

_Bridget…_

"Loki," Mia whispered, horrified. She stared vacantly at both Stark and Rogers for a moment before pushing past them and into the corridor.

"Mia!" Steve's voice was almost panicked. "Mia, where are you going?" She heard his tone change from worried to intense. "Put on the suit," he told Tony.

"Right," Tony replied plainly, but Mia hardly heard him.

"Mia!" Steve yelled more loudly. She could hear him running after her down the hall, his much longer strides overtaking her in a matter of seconds. He caught her by the arm and spun her around sharply. "Mia, you have to get somewhere safe," he ordered her in his most authoritative tone.

"No, I need to stop Loki," Mia insisted. "I'm the only one he'll listen to, Steve. You heard Thor: Loki thinks he's in love with me. I have some kind of hold over him."

"Yeah, I know what that's like," Steve muttered.

"What?" Mia yelled over the noise, confused. The sound of the ship falling to pieces around them was overwhelming, with agents yelling and grating, groaning sounds of failing machinery.

"It doesn't matter," Steve said, sounding slightly defeated. Then his confidence returned. "Mia, you can't go alone. I'm coming with you."

"Steve, no—"

Suddenly Mia found herself immobilized, strong hands set on her hips. Warm, firm lips were pressed to hers, and the sound faded out around her for the second time in minutes—though, this time was decidedly stronger. A tingling spread down from her mouth through her body, filling her with gentle warmth and a slight ache that she couldn't quite place.

Then Steve pulled away, and all of the noise came crashing back.

"Mia," he told her, panting, blue eyes staring into hers. "I'm coming with you."

"Would you like to tell me he's not your boyfriend _now_?" Tony challenged from down the hall. Steve actually rolled his eyes at this.

Mia sighed, hating what she was about to do. "Steve," she began softly, setting both hands on his chest. "I'm sorry about this."

Next moment she had blasted Steve down the hall, carefully but powerfully, so that he was standing beside Tony, golden sparks swirling around him and eventually fading out.

"Ooh, re-_jected,"_ she heard Tony say rudely, just before she hit the button on her wrist and dematerialized. "Women. Ever changeable."

"Shut it, Stark." Steve sounded hard. She forced herself not to look at his face.

Yes, Mia had kept the teleport device Hill had given her from her encounter with Loki. Maria hadn't asked for it back, and the sleeve of Mia's long sleeve blouse covered the device from Fury's watchful eyes.

Just as Mia had hoped, the device reversed her previous journey, placing her directly inside the confinement area. Apparently it hadn't been locked down yet—the great flashing lights above the huge bolted door were glowing a bright green, and the door open.

"You _can _hear my thoughts."

Mia turned, finding herself in the exact spot she'd left before. Loki stood on the other side of the glass, grinning wildly.

"Only when I project them, of course—though still, it serves as proof of our rare connection." He suppressed his smirk. "I assume Thor has told you by now of our, how to put it? _Unique_ arrangement."

Something about this remembrance brought to Mia's attention the fact that she had just _kissed _Captain America—no, Captain America had kissed _her._

"Ah, I see." Loki grew solemn, a light fading from his eyes. "And you enjoyed it?" He made a disapproving noise. "How terribly unfaithful of you, my dear."

Wait a second… "Did you just read my _mind_?" Mia demanded angrily.

"I understand the attraction, on his part," Loki continued, beginning to pace as if she hadn't spoken. "But you? You can do better. _Should_ do better." He looked at her wryly out of the corner of his left eye. "_Will_ do better?"

"I'll be damned if some would-be king think he can _claim _me," Mia fumed, muscles tensing. "And by the way, you _aren't _the first idiot to think so."

"And does _he_ know that?" Loki smirked at her infuriatingly.

"He has more of a chance than you ever will." Loki shrugged and turned his back on her, walking to the opposite end of the cage. "Do you hear me? HEY!" She fired a blast of golden light from her hands at the cage. It shook the container in the grasp of the hinges, threatening to drop. "I do _not _belong to you!"

"To me, no. _With _me, however, is another story entirely." Loki whirled on a dime, staring at her intensely. "Why must you be so irritatingly dense? I only wish to help you. Or have you not considered how you might have your revenge on your father if you only left this wretched association and joined me?"

Mia froze.

"Or perhaps not for him," he continued, tossing his hair indifferently. "Perhaps, to save your sister from his clutches? What was her name again? Your frail, blond, innocent sister."

_Iggy, run! RUN!_

"Clem." Choking on the name she hadn't spoken aloud in nine years—nine long, excruciating years. The name that always mattered most to her—even now.

"Yes. Clemency." Loki looked at her plainly. "The one person you still dare to love. But darling," he grinned, "dare to love me, and we will _free _her. Free all those who were harmed by your father's ruthlessness, and bring them _utter peace_."

"Clem is safe," Mia argued. "My mother loves her too much to let any harm come to her. She was always too afraid of what I was to love me." She frowned, her eyes hardening. "And you can't save those who are already dead."

The journalist walked forward brazenly, standing directly in front of the glass. "You're acting just like him, right now. Do you want me to hate you as well? Because we are already _well_ down that road. Stop this," she ordered. "Stop this senseless conquest, give up this poisonous dream. If you wish for _any _chance with me: find your goodness."

"You sound like Thor." The demi-god scoffed at his brother's name. "And my dear, have I not told you that I have no goodness? Only the dark?"

"Everyone has goodness," Mia said, looking at him with something akin to pity. "Even men like you. Don't become someone who can't see the light anymore. It is a _decision —_not a predisposition."

Before Mia could even react, she found herself in wrapped tightly Loki's arms, the chamber empty. In one hand he held his scepter, the other wound firmly around her waist.

He looked behind her, eyes hardening. "Then it is a decision that I have already made."

"NO!" a loud yell rang out behind her. Mia looked up in alarm and found Thor barreling towards them. The next moment, she dropped herself to the floor, rolled three feet away from the container, and hit the button on her wrist, dematerializing from the room with a sense of dread.

The bolt from Loki's scepter charred the metal where she'd stood, just an instant before.

Loki wouldn't change. Not even for her, which officially signed his death sentence. So Mia would do what she always did with the men like him—she would see him stopped, even if no one else would.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Mia materialized in the hallway by the lab. Unfortunately, the hallway was a warzone, with flames licking the ceiling, glass and metal flying in all directions—and those were just the more relevant problems. Besides this, there were alarms blaring and sounds from the ship and people screaming not far off—in other words, total chaos.

Thor was right about things, it seemed. _You speak of control, yet you court chaos. _Made a hell of a lot of sense when it came to herself, Mia realized—and that wasn't a particularly nice revelation.

Mia had hidden the part of herself away that had anything to do with her 'magic'—partially out of guilt, and partially because she didn't want to draw attention to herself or cause problems for others. Either way, her current situation had gotten wildly out of control, and deep down Mia knew that if there was ever a time for her to go back on her promise to remain average, it was now.

So it was that upon appearing in the hallway, Mia immediately conjured a sphere of golden sparks around herself, protecting her from the dangers running rampant—literally, it seemed. However despite her best efforts a few shards of glass embedded themselves into her left arm, causing several sharp stabs of pain to shoot up into her shoulder. She also got a nasty burn or her right thigh that would undoubtedly welt later.

Upon working her way through the debris and past the lab she found a Hulk-sized hole in the floor—Banner had changed, then. There was also a gaping hole in the window, the strong mid atmosphere winds whipping into the room and rebounding off of her golden sphere. Mia wondered where he was now—it was too quiet, and she dreaded the possibility of him no longer being aboard.

Then realization struck: the ship was losing altitude. Rapidly. No doubt Tony was already suited up and working on whatever problem was causing it, but where were the others? Romanoff had probably been with Banner when he Hulked-out—God help her. Who knew where Thor was, Steve…Steve would have gone with Tony, she realized.

"Where the crap are you guys?" Mia grumbled worriedly, taking off down the corridor towards Tony's storage compartment. There, she found his suit locker empty. She ran back out and found several dead agents further on—Loki's doing, she realized with a cringe. On the floor beside them was an intact SHIELD issue earpiece. Knowing she was completely out-of-the-loop and that was never good, Mia reached down against her instinct and nabbed it, pressing the piece into her ear.

Maria's voice immediately surged out. "Barton's been recovered. We've reached full evac on the lower levels. Somebody find Paxton, Stark says she was on her own with Loki—"

"Maria, I'm here," Mia yelled, over the crashing noise of several collapsing beams.

"Mia! Where are you?"

"Suit storage. I'm okay, but Loki's loose, he's got Thor…I've got no idea how he escaped."

"You didn't do that?" Fury's voice cut in angrily.

"Why the hell would I let him out, Fury? Use your head!"

"Rogers thought something had happened to you—we thought you'd been possessed. Seeing as Loki's got the scepter now" –a few shots rang off in the earpiece—"it still seems like a pretty damn good theory!"

"I'm fine!" Mia bellowed, outraged at Fury's lack of trust. So far, she done everything he'd asked, and this was what she got in response? "Where are Steve and Tony, Director?"

"Number three engine," Hill replied, before Fury could. "Mia, don't do anything stupid!"

"I can handle it, Maria!" Mia looked around at the golden sphere surrounding her, then down at her hands, now glowing with unused sparks. A look of determination took her face. "Trust me." She bolted in the direction of the wing that housed the number three engine.

She remembered the place from the blueprints Hill had given her earlier. As luck would have it, she wasn't far away. In three minutes she was standing at the edge of a gaping hole in the ship, looking down at the clouds while the wind whipped at her golden bubble, trying and completely failing to misshape it.

Mia glanced around. She could see the turbine struggling to pick up speed, dark smoke being sucked into its whirling blades—it was then that her earpiece picked up on a nearby channel.

"Cap, hit the lever." It was Tony.

"I need a minute here!" Steve sounded strained, wind blowing noisily in the static.

Then she saw him.

"Holy shit, Steve!" Mia yelped, seeing him dangling precariously from a length of electrical cording, golden hair glinting in the light. Before she could stop herself, a flashback brought the image of Clem struggling to the forefront of her mind.

_Iggy, run! RUN!_

"Mia! Thank God. A little help if you don't mind!" Tony requested with a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Mia?" Steve repeated. "Mia, what the hell are you doing here?! I told you—"

Mia jolted out of her memory, leaving Clem in the arms of the guard and returning to the equally disturbing scenario before her.

"I'm on it, Ironass." Scrambling away from the edge (and the horrifying sights to be seen there,) Mia jumped down through a hole in the plating, onto the deck below. Then she hurried down a short set of stairs (missing a few steps by now) and ran through a doorway. She found herself just below the decking where Steve was holding on for dear life.

"Hang on, Steve," she yelled. Mia could see the cord beginning to rip out of the wall, tossing him further out into the sky. Her stomach flopped in terror at the idea of him being thrown from the aircraft, and—

Enough. That kind of thinking didn't help anything, didn't save anyone.

"Mia, get out of here!"Steve ordered, still obviously struggling.

"Not a chance, Cap." Knowing she couldn't sustain her shield and do what she needed to do, Mia let the protection drop, the sparks blowing out into the harsh wind and turbine draft. The wind hit her as a blow to her entire body, and though Mia knew she'd be feeling that for a good week to come, she gritted her teeth and summoned all of her magic.

With an upward thrust of her hands she shot two long streams of golden matter into the air, directly under Steve's feet. It hit the soles of his suit and propelled him upward, onto the platform. He landed with a harsh bang and opened his eyes to look down at her through the metal grating, panting from exertion.

A slight grin twisted his lips. He was glad to see her, though worried.

"Help. LEVER!" Tony hollered. Immediately Steve shot up onto his feet and yanked on the lever. A raucous clanging resounded from the nearby turbine, and the next moment a rather battered Tony in his suit came tumbling out. An involuntary grin spread on Mia's face.

"Mia, look out!"Steve was frantic.

Perhaps it was the fear in his voice that prompted Mia's magic to create an involuntary invisibility shield. Regardless she did, and so it was that the man in the SHIELD gear and machine gun completely ignored her, shooting up at Steve instead, bullets ricocheting off of the walls.

"_Hey!" a sharp shout cut through the alarms now blaring inside the House, and a beam landed on the girls. "Over here!"_

_Bridget swore under her breath, then regretted it as Clem had undoubtedly heard. She wrapped her arm more firmly around her sister. "Hold tight, Clem. We're almost—" _

_Her sentence was cut off when she ran smack into another guard, this one having just rounded the connecting corner at the same moment. With a sharp crack Bridget's forehead collided with his chin, a spurt of blood that wasn't her own dripping down into her eyes. _

_The next moment, Bridget was sprawled face first on the ground with a mouthful of frosted, rotting leaves. Clem was in the arms of the guard and not hers. The tiny blond was struggling, trying to get back to her sister. "Iggy!"_

"_Clem." Bridget dragged herself to her feet, vision swimming. The guard was backing towards the house, radioing frantically for reinforcements._

"_Iggy!" _

"_Clem." _

_The sound of bullets rang out in the windy night, her sister's nightgown blowing in the frigid wind. _

"_Clem!"_

"NO!"

Before Mia knew what she was doing, she thrust both hands forward, blasting the man with all of her magic. A rage tore through her, a rage she hadn't let out in years.

The next thing she knew, she was gaping at a glowing hole in the wall. The man had been blasted over thirty feet, through two rooms and six layers of metal wall, to rest in a pile of blackened ash. Completely disintegrated.

Mia stood there, a trembling shell shocked mess as the reality of what she'd just done began to sink in. _Monster, _her mind chanted at her. Her father's voice._ Monster. Specimen. _

Tony flew past her, crash landing in the hallway and knocking out a second man just as the lights faded out of his suit helmet's eyes.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, his voice metallic and dull. "Remind me never to do _that _again."

Mia hardly heard him. She couldn't breathe, her body rigid at the horrific sight before her. The man's machine gun fell out of his charred hands, a molten lump of metal. His head was leaning to one side at an unnatural angle—not that there was anything _natural _about this. Mia found herself desperately hoping that his death had been instantaneous, of a broken spinal column rather than the blasting he had endured at her hand.

She shut her eyes, lungs excruciatingly tight as she tried and failed to draw breath. _Monster. Monster. Freak. Specimen. _

"Mia. MIA." Strong hands had gripped her by the shoulders, holding her up. A sweaty forehead pressed against her own. "Mia, talk to me. Mia."

Mia opened her eyes into wide, anxious blue ones—and she felt like she would throw up. Blue eyes. Always the blue eyes. "Mia," the Captain said, a slight relief apparent in his face at her response. "Breathe. Come on. In and out. _Breathe."_

"Steve," Mia croaked, the word sounding brittle and ragged. Tears suddenly flooded her eyes as air rushed into her lungs. _Monster. Murderer. _She took another gasping breath, the last word resounding. _Murderer._

At last, the barb her father had flung so many years before hit home. It was true, finally. After all of these years, it was finally true.

Mia knew who she was, despite years of living under an assumed name, years of trying to prove she was something else. Something better.

She really was a monster.

Now, at long last, she knew it.

The woman drew air weakly, a long sob wheezing out of her. Steve pulled her close into his arms as Tony walked into the room to stare—silently, for once—at the hole in the wall and the remains of the man at the end of it, then at the sight of the Quinjet that flew past them—carrying Loki to safety.

Mia knew Steve was whispering comforting things into her ear, stroking the hair that had long since tumbled haphazardly form its bun, but she couldn't hear any of it. The last thing she heard before fading into a grief and shock induced faint was Fury's voice in her earpiece.

"_Agent Coulson is down."_

"A medical team is on its way to your location."

"_They're here. They called it."_

The last sight Mia saw was a wobbly silver star on a bright blue background, fading into a miserable, haunted darkness.

. . .

The quinjet flew away from the helicarrier, taking the demi-god turned spurned lover away from his failed romance attempts and in the direction of his next step towards victory.

Certainly, he regretted the loss of agent Barton—he had been a valuable and deadly asset. But it was worth losing him to deprive his enemies of his broth—that is, of Thor.

Part of Loki hoped the Asgardian had perished in his fall. Another, more vengeful part hoped that he had lived, in order to inflict a better means of repayment for the enormous debt of pain he owed Odin's son.

"Come around the damaged wing of the fortress," he ordered the pilot, who immediately obeyed the demand without question.

With his keen and godly eyesight, Loki watched from the tail of his stolen aircraft as his Intended crumbled under the weight of her true power—under the realization of what she was capable of. Through the slight mental connection he had retained he could feel her angst, her pain, her confusion. Her horror. She had finally seen her inner demon come to light, and how it tormented her.

Soon, he thought with a devious smirk, she would truly break. She was too distressed now, but after she began to recover from the shock…the guilt would kill whatever last vestiges of justice and morality that still dwelt in her heart. It would purge her of the weighting ideals that she'd struggled to uphold in the face of progress—his progress, and she would open herself to his influence in her despair.

Then, he would claim her.

For as much as Loki had thought he could shake her off like unwanted dust from his feet, he couldn't. Her image haunted his every thought, her memory walking through his every idea and leaving footprints in his mind—and on his heart. Yes, he would break her now—but he would rebuild her afterward, creating a palace from had once been a hut, unworthy of her dwelling therein.

Then, he would forge a queen in the ruins of a princess, a goddess from the ashes of a righteous mind.

He would create for himself the ideal woman he had always craved, and would want for nothing in his new empire.

. . .

The sound of a steady beeping was the first thing that reached Mia's ears. The sound of a heart monitor.

Opening her eyes, the journalist found herself in some kind of makeshift hospital room. It seemed to be some kind of converted lab, and it was entirely empty except for her.

At least so she thought initially. Until her eyes began to focus, and she found the shape of a blurry blond headed person sitting beside her, large blue clad shoulders hunched over clasped hands, head hung.

It all came swarming back at an alarming rate. Loki, Phase 2, Steve, Tony, _Project Midas_, Clem…the attack on the helicarrier, and…

_Murderer. _

Mia cringed, inhaling sharply, painfully. Steve's head immediately lifted, his kind gaze locking onto her green, uncertain one.

"Mia," he said, sounding relieved but strained. There was a deep sadness in his eyes that didn't belong there. Looking at Steve, Mia felt the same urge she'd always had with her sister, to keep him from feeling that sadness—to protect from harm. She knew it wasn't her job, and it definitely wasn't her place, but…still. The feeling remained.

Seeing her awake brought a rapid change to the Captain's expression, morphing into something between happiness, relief, and an overwhelming sense of concern.

Mia tried to prop herself up on her elbows, and Steve immediately moved to help adjust her bed. Mia felt herself blushing at his close proximity, which surprised her because she would have thought she was far too upset for that. She stared down at her hands, which for some reason were swarming with golden energy sparks in spite of the fact she hadn't summoned them.

She also appeared to have circular burn marks on her palms—as if she'd shot sparks from her hands like Stark's repulsors did, instead of from her fingertips as usual. The skin was actually singed and peeling away from the wounds in craters of red inflamed flesh, leaving raw layers of skin painfully exposed.

Steve saw her staring. "They tried to bandage your hands, but the energy wouldn't let them," he said solemnly. "They did apply some kind of quick healing balm though. The doctors can't seem to make you stop."

"Neither can I," Mia added, realizing with a slight sense of dread that she couldn't stop the glow from enveloping her hands. It was harmless— only trace amounts— but she couldn't make the sparks fade like she normally could, and that bothered her. Immensely.

Had she finally lost control of her powers?

"Do you wanna talk about what happened?"

The question surprised her. Mia supposed she should have known Steve would be the one to be beside her when she woke, to be the one to try and talk to her. Stark used sarcasm like she did to distance himself from others, to block out the hurt—plus he was currently pissed with her. Romanoff had clearly been through hell in her lifetime and bore her emotional scars behind a wall of mistrust and silence. Banner was waging some kind of inner struggle that transcended words, which left Steve.

Steve Rogers still carried his share of troubles, but he also had the biggest heart that Mia had ever had the privilege of knowing. She'd often wondered in her childhood if his goodness had been exaggerated—surely no one could be that selfless, that honest, and that _perfect. _ It was one of the reasons she'd ended up hating him—that is, until she actually _met _him, and found it to be true.

She respected him now, she realized. Not as a legend, or a Captain, or even as a man. Mia respected him as a _person, _and that was an honor she had yet to bestow on any male individual she had met. Even Tony didn't have that—not yet. And it didn't end at respect with Steve, either. For the first time in a long time, Mia found that she cared—bringing her list of people to care about up to a grand total of seven. The others being Jane, Darcy, Pepper, Tony, Maria, and Clem.

Besides this, there was the rather intriguing fact that he'd kissed her—and then held her close—without Mia making any kind of advance. If anything, she'd been shooting him down when telling Tony off for calling her his girlfriend. Oh God, she hoped Steve hadn't taken that personally.

Realizing her mind was wandering, Mia looked up at Steve and found him watching her with concern.

"Sorry," she apologized quietly. "My thoughts are everywhere right now."

"I know the feeling." Steve sighed, and looked down at the floor. "Loki's gone," he told her. "Apparently Banner Hulked-out and fell off the carrier, and we don't know where Thor is—but the cage is missing."

"Loki trapped him inside," Mia realized. "It must have happened just after I left." She looked down at her pulsing hands. "I went to talk to him," she went on. "Loki, I mean. I thought that if I talked to him alone, maybe…"

"You could get him to change his mind," Steve finished. "Mia, I know you think you can protect yourself—and now, I know that to some degree you can." He stared at her hands for a moment before continuing. "But he could have killed you—Coulson was an amazingly brave agent, and he's dead."

Mia's breathing caught at this. Coulson. She had given him so much hell. She wished she could take it all back, because he _had_ just been following orders. She'd barely known the man, but he'd been seemed like a kind, intelligent and loyal person. At least part of their bantering had been all in good fun—she never could have lived with herself if he'd died with bad blood between them.

Not that she could live with herself now, but…

"…do you hear me?" Steve was still talking, and Mia had missed part of it. Seeing her blank look, he sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. "Mia, please. I need to know what happened back there. Fury's already upset that you used your…_powers,_ in the first place, to protect Stark and I. But if I can't explain what happened by the turbine, I don't know if I can….Mia?"

Quite against her will, Mia found herself stiffening, pulling her knees to her chest as tears threatened to leak out of her eyes. _Monster. Murderer. Freak. _

"I killed him," she whispered, staring blankly eyes over her kneecaps. "That man, I just…I saw…" She couldn't say her name aloud. She just couldn't.

"You had a flashback, didn't you?" God, how did he know everything? "It's alright, I get them too sometimes. Mostly war stuff, but sometimes…" He trailed off, his voice deepening when he asked, "Was it someone personal?"

Mia nodded once, slowly. "My sister."

"Clemency." Steve moved to pick up a file from the table beside her hospital bed. Mia's heart rate sped up, as attested to by the monitor's steady rise in beeping.

"Calm down," Steve told her gently but firmly, noticing the subtle change. He pulled his chair closer to her bed and balanced the file on his knee. "I won't ask if you don't want me to. They only gave me your personal file, anyway. Fury doesn't seem to want to share whatever's in the _Midas_ file."

Gracious, even after having been lied to. Somehow, Mia felt that this was a special privilege Steve afforded her because of her delicate state.

"No," Mia breathed, and let out a slow sigh. "No, he doesn't. But I might as well explain the one you've read." She stared for a long moment at the thin grey SHIELD issue hospital blanket spread over her legs. "I didn't have a lot of people close to me, growing up. My parents held me at a distance—my mother was afraid of me, my father saw me as a..."

_Monster._

"…As a specimen," she finished. "I didn't really connect with anyone until Clem was born.

"She was so small," Mia said, smiling faintly, her eyes shining softly. "Nobody thought she would live. I used to sit with her, in her nursery. Listening to her heart beat. It would stop sometimes, and I would set a finger to her tiny chest…" she held up a glowing fingertip, staring at the sparks. "And it would start up again. It wasn't until she was two months old that it stopped happening.

"Clem was sick most of the time. They stopped taking her to the hospital after awhile because of all the attention it attracted. You would have thought my parents would want the publicity, but…" she shrugged. "They brought the doctors to her after that. There was even a phase where people had to go through three steps of sterilization before coming in contact with her. She had a recurring case of pneumonia, a blood disorder…she was always so pale. And a brittle bone condition. Clem had had six fractures before she was two years old."

Steve let out a soft laugh. "I know what that's like," he told her grimly. "I've done my time as a high risk patient."

Mia looked at him carefully and saw that he was telling the truth. "Despite all of that, Clem was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen. I never had dolls as a child—my father used to encourage me to develop my _skills, _instead." _My father_ was just dripping with venom. "I didn't need dolls, anyway. Clem had blonde, almost white hair, and the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes you could ever hope to see. That's why I can't always look at you, in the eyes," Mia confessed. "I look at you, and I see Clem."

Steve actually took a breath at this, as if it was a lot to take. "That explains some things."

Mia swiped at an irritating twitch in her left eye. "Clem was six when I discovered the truth about _Project Midas_. I won't tell you about it now—it would take too long." She swallowed hard, waiting for Steve to give her some sign that that was okay. When he did, she continued. "The night I decided to run away, Clem found me trying to break out. I realized then that I couldn't leave her behind—how could I? They didn't understand her like I did—and no one understood _me _better than her. So I tried to take her with me."

"Tried." Steve tried to be careful with his tone, but it still hurt to hear him admit her failure.

"We were caught breaking out. I tripped the alarms in a manner that should have brought all the agents and guards on duty to my father's office. We had the misfortune of running into the very last guard left outside." She closed her eyes, trying not to replay the memory.

_Iggy, run!_

"He knocked up my head pretty good, took Clem from me before I could use any of my powers to stop him. Then he radioed for backup."

_Iggy!_

"Clem—" Mia's voice cracked.

"Take your time."

She started over. "Clem told me to run. I didn't want to leave her—God, I didn't want to leave her." She rubbed her face with her glowing hands. "But she was right; I couldn't save her and get away. They would treat her well— they always treated her well. But if I was caught, if my father found out I knew about Midas…I have no idea what he would have done to me."

She sat there, hands shaking against her face as she tried to steady her breathing. The heart monitor next to her was slamming out a fast paced rhythm that sounded like the backbeat to a techno song. She was living it all over again, seeing every excruciating moment of her sister being pulled away from her.

A doctor rushed into the room, looking as if he were about to jump in and intervene. Steve waved him out silently with one hand, hurriedly—but the doctor refused to budge.

"Her heart rate climbs much higher and she'll go into cardiac arrest," he warned the Captain.

"Mia." Steve's voice crept into her memory, drawing her out. Back to the present. "Mia, it's just a memory. Let it go." Then, after a pause, "Let her go."

Mia was staring straight ahead, eyes locked on a fixed point before her. Body completely rigid as her breathing became so shallow it was hardly an intake at all. Through the accompanying numbness, she vaguely felt Steve's large warm hand rubbing circles on her back.

"It's okay, Mia. It's going to be okay."

Normally Mia would have sat there until she snapped out of her trace, sometimes hours later—that was her normal routine in that kind of circumstance. Jane and Darcy had never been around during her crises because she carefully scheduled them to occur in their absence. They knew nothing of her history, and she didn't share it with them. She was afraid of what they would think of her, that she would lose them too. This was actually the first time that anybody had shown any kind of concern for her regarding her family.

And it felt…nice. To have someone there for her, after so long of having nobody.

Her breathing eventually began to increase, her heart slowing its wild tempo to an acceptable pace.

The doctor, who had a bandage on one of his own arms, looked at Steve in surprise, as if impressed that he could have that kind of effect on such a volatile patient. The man quietly withdrew, the blinds ticking against the door's glass pane as the door clicked shut.

Eventually Mia pulled her head up from her knees, face pale and drawn. "I'm sorry," she apologized stiffly. "I don't normally…do this, in front of people. I shouldn't even be wasting your time right now, I—"

"I'm here because I want to be," Steve cut in firmly. "It's okay to fall apart sometimes, even in front of people…and if not people, then me." He took her right hand in his own, without hesitation. Like he already knew she wouldn't harm him. Even Mia didn't know what she would or wouldn't do at this point.

"Doesn't it hurt you?" she asked, seeing him not paying the sparks of golden energy any mind whatsoever.

"What?" Steve looked down at their hands, confused. "The sparks? No. Does it normally hurt people?"

"Not hurt, exactly. More of a sort of stinging, like a light static, though for some people it's more like sticking a finger in an electrical socket. Usually that's only with people I don't like."

"You must like me a lot then, if it doesn't feel like anything." Steve blushed at his own forwardness. "I mean…"

She looked at him, brimming with the most confusing array of emotions she'd felt—well, ever. "Why are you here, Steve?" Mia asked. "I lied to you. And you…" she paused worriedly. "You kissed me. Why? After everything."

Steve looked at the ground a moment, pink tingeing his cheeks. "Because, I wanted to," he told her. "Which may have been out of line, seeing as I really should have asked you first. If I had, you wouldn't be asking _why_ right now."

Mia stared at her glowing hands, one of which rested inside of both of Steve's, making their hand sandwich glow with ambient light. "Would you kiss me now?" she asked. Seeing his blush deepen she added, "I mean, would you ever kiss me _again_, knowing what I'm capable of."

"Capable of?" Steve replied, a note of disdain in his voice. "Mia, what you have is a gift, not something to be ashamed of—"

"I'm a _monster, _Steve," Mia argued. The sparks around her hands thickened. "I _killed _that man, in cold blood—"

"You killed him because in that moment, you saw Clem instead of me!" Mia looked up at Steve in shock. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid, Mia. It's not hard to piece together." He stared at her, blue eyes insistent. "I know she didn't get away with you. But you're not a monster. Don't take Loki's word to heart. He _wants _to break you, make you vulnerable so he can take advantage of you when you're least prepared for it. Don't let him do that to you." He squeezed her hand. "You're stronger than that."

"Steve…"

"As for the lying," Steve went on, the remembrance of which made a knot in the journalist's stomach, "you're not the only one who didn't give the whole story." He stared at their clasped hands. "It's not a story to tell now, just like your _Project Midas_ isn't. But I'll tell you sometime, when all of this is over. If you want." He gave her a slight smile. "And I promise to tell the truth this time—since you trusted me with yours."

Mia sat looking at him for a few seconds in silence, just taking him in. For the first time since Clem, she found herself simply admiring the inner beauty of another. He was so honest, open, kind…and why did she find that so attractive, when it was so damn inappropriate?

"You've got yourself a deal, soldier."

At her consent, Steve gripped her hand more tightly and flashed a quick, genuine smile—like a glint of sunlight in a storm. "Good." He rose to his feet, surprising Mia by pressing his lips to her forehead. "And to answer your question," he added thoughtfully, looking her in the eyes, "I would kiss you again—if, and when you wanted."

Mia felt her cheeks heat as a blossoming feeling arose inside her chest. A warmth, a fluttering, and that ache she'd felt before. It was something beautiful in the midst of all the chaos and Mia found herself holding on to that feeling like a lifeline.

She looked up at him, green eyes shining. "When all of this is over, I may just take you up on that."


	12. Chapter 11

**I've been maintaining radio silence for the last few chapters so as to keep the story streamlined. However, it's come to my attention that I've recently passed the 100 follower mark - thank you for that, guys. Seeing as you thought this story good enough to subscribe to, I'd would like to ask a favor. **

**Take just a minute of your time and before you click away from this chapter, leave me a review. It doesn't have to be be an essay, or praise the finer points of the story. It could just be a sentence or two about what you like/don't like about how things are going so far. As I mentioned in my A/N chapter, this is my NaNo project that I'm reviewing and posting up, so your opinion means a great deal to me. SoaA is only book one of "The Paxton Files", so I'd like to know your ideas and views on my storyline and character sooner rather than later so that I can continue to develop the plot in the best way possible.**

**Thank you for your readership and all of the reviews I've received so far - with with a special shout out to **_**NicoleR85,**_** who has been been a constant reviewer from the getgo. You are all appreciated!**

**-Ana**

**. . .**

Chapter 11

A half hour later, a rather riled looking Mia and a solemn Captain walked into the upper bridge deck, where Tony and Fury were waiting for them.

Seeing as Mia's clothes had been all but shredded in the confrontational past, she was now dressed in a standard SHIELD issue bodysuit. It was much like the one Hill wore, but there were no holsters and it fit more like Widow's suit: tightly. The doctor who had released her had suggested the additional compression might do her wounded and now bandaged arm some good—it hid the bandage, at any rate, and didn't chafe her blistered thigh. Mia found the bodysuit strange and foreign feeling, but said nothing. There were much bigger things to worry about than the texture of the clothing she'd been given.

Tony cast one look at Mia's glowing hands, and one more at Steve's hand on her lower back, guiding her. The genius said nothing, turning away almost in defeat. Mia felt her chest tighten uncomfortably as she took a seat in the high backed chair Steve had swiveled for her convenience.

"Paxton." It was a single word, an acknowledgement of her presence—nothing more. Luckily, Mia hadn't been expecting much from Fury in the first place, so she was able to check her otherwise sharp tongue and remain in a tense silence.

"Director." Steve took a seat beside Mia, on her left.

Mia fisted her hands under the desk—yet this time, the mass of swirling sparks couldn't be hidden. They shone through the table's clear glass surface as proof of her volatile state.

"Should she even be here?" Tony asked stiffly.

"She's fine, Stark." Steve was firm, but not angry. Still, there was a silent challenge in his words, a snap. _Don't test me on this. _It directly opposed the guilt radiating off of him.

Mia's guilt was fading by the minute. Steve's talking-to had brought her back to reality, honed her sense of injustice and brought her rage roaring back to life. How dare Loki think he could reduce her to his level, his kind of senseless slaughter. He was right about one thing: she was strong, so much stronger than he knew. But he would know soon enough. The only sense of revenge that made any sense to her at the moment was the revenge directed at the god of mischief himself.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket." Fury tossed a small stack of bloodied cards onto the table. Captain America collector's cards, Mia realized, staring at them spread out on the table, blood splattered on the table. Maria had told her about agent Coulson's fanboy behavior when it came to Steve. Something he apparently took to his death. It would almost be poetic, if it wasn't so sad—and still so fresh. "I guess he never did get you to sign them."

Steve heaved a heavy sigh and picked up a card to gaze at it ruefully. Still, Mia's eyes fixated on the droplets of red on the glass. Evidence of yet another life that had been wasted because of one man's ambition. She felt an angry clenching feeling in the pit of her stomach, remembering similarly stained documents that she had read during her investigation of Project Midas. Field reports, her father had called them.

_Barbaric,_ was the word playing at the forefront of her mind. _Heartless, _another. Why did it seem that she would always be unwillingly tied to men who desired control, and to hurt anyone who stood in the way of that ideal? Her life was a repeat of past events, always coming back to haunt her in a new and equally horrifying way—always with something precious to lose.

Looking beside her at Steve, a terrible sense of dread came over her. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

"Our communications, the location of the Cube, Banner, Thor…I got nothing for you."

And Tony. Mia had never seen him this affected by anything, had never seen him lose that manic glint of self righteousness in his eye or that proud uplift of his chin. It was like the genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist had been entirely removed, leaving a broken shell of a Stark behind. It frightened her a bit, on one hand. On the other, it made her more angry. Even now Loki was affecting the people she loved.

"I lost my one good eye." Fury snorted softly. "Maybe I had that coming."

Steve looked over at Mia and noticed her glaring at the table, jaw twitching. It surprised him slightly that she managed to be angry when everything seemed so hopeless. But then, as much as they were all caught up in the mess they were facing, Mia had an especially heavy load of issues to contend with. He knew that they were affecting her, as was her past and her newfound connection with Loki. He could see she loathed having anything to do with the monstrous man, but it wasn't in her power to control. That had to be a horrible thing to face, even without her other challenges.

"Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract." Mia heard Steve's breathing quicken ever-so-slightly. "I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier." The Director made his way around the table, carefully sidestepping the chair occupied by the obviously enraged woman with hands full of energy sparks. She may as well have had a large flashing neon sign over her head at the moment that read 'armed and dangerous'.

However Fury knew she wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally, as Paxton was one of the most self-aware people he'd met. She would be on guard—especially after the issue in the turbine wing, which was something he'd elected to ignore, in light of the current situation. It was done in self defense, after all.

"There was an idea—Stark knows this, and I would bet money that Paxton does too—called the _Avengers Initiative_."

Mia's ears perked up at this, despite her state of mind. She had long since learned to pay attention even when troubled—a skill that had come in handy quite a bit during her time aboard the _Valiant._

"The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, to see if they could become something more." Mia stared at her hands—it was becoming a habit of late. She found that the skin had begun to heal over, the craters having disappeared and left small dark rings—scars, no doubt—on her palms. As a permanent reminder of the time she'd lost control of herself. "To see if they could work together when we needed them to"—Steve glanced over at her here—"to fight the battles we never could."

In his chair on the adjoining side of the table, Tony was beginning to fidget, agitated. "Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea." Mia met Steve's gaze for a brief moment before looking to Fury, eyes hard. "In heroes."

At this, Tony seemed to snap. He rose from his chair and strode from the room, body language screaming inner turmoil as he left. Fury watched him go in silence.

"Well," he said, after the distraught man had gone, "it's an old fashioned notion." He paused, and turned to look meaningfully at the resident anarchist. "That requires a certain level of radical thinking."

Mia looked up at him, green eyes cold and calculating, unsympathetic. She rose to her feet, setting both swirling hands atop the table. "Sir, you've been lying to me since I boarded this carrier—lying to all of us. As much as I respect agent Coulson's beliefs, I don't think for a second that you meant for these people to become those kind of heroes. Nothing built on lies can stand in strength when challenged. You pitted them against the most ruthless, calculating, villainous man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting—and believe me, I've met my share." She stopped for breath, glaring at the agent before her. "You built this team to _fail_."

"Mia," Steve began, but Fury interrupted.

"Paxton, despite what you may have been told or come to believe, you are not here for your loquaciousness or knowledge of unusual psychology. You would be _wise_ to keep that in _mind_. I brought you aboard the _Valiant_ because you have all the makings of a hero—should you choose to accept your gifts as such, and put your past behind you."

Mia snorted dubiously, staring angrily at the table. "Sure. A gift that cost one hundred and seventy two innocent people their lives."

The director moved around the table towards her, eyes set on her keenly. "I know a lot more about _Project Midas_ than you do, Paxton. What your father did was an abomination, a shame to humanity. But that burden rests with him—not with you."

"I don't remember signing up for therapy when I agreed to assist SHIELD."

"Consider it a free assessment." Fury cast a quick sideways glance at Steve, who was caught in the crossfire of the heated conversation. "Rogers, talk some sense into her. She seems to listen to you. If you can convince her to change her mind—which would be a _miracle_—send her to me." He stormed off down the causeway to the bridge with Hill on his heels, leaving Mia and Steve alone.

Mia flopped back down into her chair, green eyes shooting daggers at Fury's back.

"He is right, you know." Steve caught Mia's chin—oddly she didn't refuse him, though the movement was decidedly stiff and unwilling. "It _is_ a gift, and you were born with it. Your father's decisions are his own—only you can choose what you do with that gift. He doesn't hold that power. Stop letting him have that hold on you."

"That's _so easy for you to say!"_Mia snapped. She pulled her head out of his hand, Steve's face twisting in confusion. "You have no idea what it was like, Steve. Growing up alone. Being poked and prodded, then encouraged to explore my 'powers' instead of doing normal, childhood things. And no one ever knew. Never saw what happened behind those closed doors." She laughed coldly. "Honestly, I have no idea how we managed to keep me a secret for so long, being the First Family and all."

"Mia…"

"He used to _hit me, _Steve!" It came out as a sort of hissed, forced sentence. The rigidness had returned, with her teeth clenched tightly. "If I refused to use practice, he would hit me. My father, the President. Hit me. Told me what I had was a _gift to humanity_, and if I didn't use it I was failing my country." She swatted at her eyes, scowling at the table and not really knowing why she was telling him this at all, because the last time she checked Captain America wasn't her therapist either. "Damn crazy patriotic bastard."

She caught Hill's eye from her position on the bridge, and saw the agent viewing her with concern. Mia looked away, embarrassed.

"He's a scientist, not a politician," she muttered. "He has no business running our country."

Steve didn't seem to know what to say to this at first. "I knew things had changed since my time, but this…" He trailed off, the anger and disgust apparent in his voice. "It was wrong, what he did. Look at me." He raised her chin again, a hatred burning in his eye that actually disturbed Mia a bit. "_NO ONE _has the right to treat you like that. To _control _you like that."

"You keep saying that," Mia laughed sardonically. "But isn't that exactly what SHIELD is doing here?"

"This is bigger than SHIELD right now. I think we both know that."

"And now there's Loki." Mia sighed. "I know Thor wanted to believe the best in him, but look at the position he's in now. Thor's who-knows-where, and Loki's doing who-knows-what…"

"We'll find him. Both of them, before it's too late. "

"That's not the point." The journalist sat for a moment, fiddling with strands of golden sparks as her hands finished healing themselves. "I can see the same trait in Loki as my father. He wants me to see things his way, to believe that what he's doing is the right thing. It's not going to happen, he knows it, and I can see it in that asshole's eyes that he means to break me to get what he wants. What happened in the turbine wing was an example of that."

She turned her gaze around the room, at the silver walls of the platform and the rows full of agents seated below it. "I'm angry, Steve," Mia admitted quietly. "I'm angry in a way I haven't let myself be—ever. And I don't know if I can control that anger enough to not become what I'm afraid of becoming: the monster that Loki wants. That my father wanted."

The conflicted woman looked up at the super-soldier, and blinked back tears. "I'm not hero material, Cap. I lost the one person who mattered to me, twice. First Clem, then Rachel. Rachel was the only person who knew I even had a sister in the first place, and was like a second sister…" Mia stopped herself from going there. "How can I pretend to be something I'm not? I'm the coward, the freak that got away. Nothing close to a hero." She looked down at her now fully healed palms and the sparks clinging to her fingertips.

"You're wrong, Mia." The journalist flinched at the bluntness of his statement. "But," he added, "So am I."

Mia looked up, confused. "What? How?"

"You are hero material," Steve told her. "Fury was right about that. But we're so busy looking at the big picture that we're missing the details." He gazed at her, blue eyes filled with concern, protectiveness. "You're not a soldier, Mia. You're a civilian, and this isn't your fight to begin with. I shouldn't have taken Fury's side." He rose from the table, determined.

"What, that's it?" Mia rose too, with a scowl. "No motivational speech? Nothing?"

"You've lost enough as it is," Steve argued. "I know what that's like. I'm not going to tell you to—"

"Yeah, well, then you of all people should understand why I need to do this!" Mia snapped. She found her hands growing hot, and knew that the sparks were thickening in her hands. "We've all got problems here, Steve. We've all got issues in our past…red in our ledgers, as Romanoff puts it. But what you choose to do in spite of it? That's what makes a hero, special powers or not."She jabbed a glowing finger over at the trading cards on the table. "We owe it to people like Coulson—people who still _believe _in heroes—to be the best we can be, regardless of what haunts us or gives us nightmares."

The journalist looked at him, searching beyond his mask yet again to appeal to the man behind the armor: to Steve Rogers, not Captain America. "How do you do it, Steve?" she asked, quietly so that no one else could possibly hear. "How do you keep going, even after…" She didn't finish. _After the ice._ She didn't need to.

Steve's eyes hardened. "You know how I do." _Bucky. _ The unspoken name hung between them.

"You do it for him, Steve." Mia looked down at their hands, and then back up at her, eyes moist. "And me? I have to do this. For _them." _She squeezed her hands shut, two spheres of brilliant gold light and energy. "For Clem and Rachel."

"If that's what you learned from my telling you about him," Steve whispered intensely, moving a step closer, "then telling you was the worst mistake I could have made." He clenched his teeth, looking around to make sure no one was listening. Seeing they were alone in the conference area, he went on in an angry whisper. "You have people you can lose, if this goes pear shaped."

"And you don't?" Mia asked. She knew this was a harsh way of putting it, but Steve had spent almost a year in the 21st century now and it was unlikely that he didn't have somebody to care about.

"I do!" He glared down at her, jaw set. "I do. Just one, and I'm protecting her now." Well, that was sad—and debilitating. Damn it, Steve! It was a really bad time for Mia to fall subject to pity—and an overinflated sense of worth to boot.

A bolt of pain swam through the back of his eyes, and a weakness took over—a fear even. "Don't do this," he implored her. "This isn't your fight, Mia. Don't make me lose you too."

Mia took a deep, swallowing breath. She looked up at the man before her, the man who was telling her not to jump into danger for the sake of revenge, even though Mia knew he fought as a means of reparation for losing his best friend.

Loki wanted to draw her into the fight, to pull off her carefully constructed mask and join in a battle that didn't involve her for the sake of his own personal gain. She was bound to that man, by some kind of magic from another world. Yet here was Steve, standing in front of her and asking her to step away, to save herself. To do what she needed to make sure she stayed the kind of person she wanted to be: good, kind, truthful. A light in the darkness.

She didn't feel ready. She was totally, insanely scared. But Mia knew, just like she always did, what was true—and what was the right thing to do because of it. What was more, Mia realized in that moment she could be both things: she could be the force for good she strove to be, and the monster inside of her.

It had taken the influence of both men to see it. But in that moment, Mia Paxton looked up at Steve Rogers and made her choice.

_He has more of a chance than you ever will, _she told Loki, through whatever faint mental connection they still held.

"You're right." Mia looked up at a mildly surprised Steve. "This isn't my fight. But I'm damn well in it—and in it to win." She laughed bitterly. "Because if we don't, I'm stuck engaged to the new ruler of this planet, and that's not an idea I'm too keen on."

"Mia—" Ah, there was the tough 'captain' voice.

"Stow it, Cap. If you want someone to convince, go talk to Tony. He looks about ready to give up on life. I need to talk to Fury." Mia flicked a palm towards the Captain's chest to create a half bubble of sparks, effectively sliding him six feet backwards and holding him there so that she had clear access to the causeway.

"Damn it, Mia!" Steve swore. He then made a sort of growling noise before storming out of the conference area. She could still hear him muttering something about 'bone headed, stubborn, unreasonable', and then he was gone—hopefully, Mia thought, to find Stark.

She let the bubble drop into golden dust as she made her way into the bridge area, ignoring the staring of a few agents who had seen her little trick.

"As you were," she ordered them, in her most authoritative tone. Unsurprisingly, they obeyed her. For a journalist, Mia had a knack for telling SHIELD agents what to do. Hopefully Steve wasn't an exception to that, because Tony really needed some help, and Steve was champion of pep talks—well, most of the time.


	13. Chapter 12

**Thank you for the reviews! I really am thankful for those of you who took the time to share your thoughts with me. Here's that next chapter, as requested. I'm currently keeping an every second day update schedule, which I forsee being able to maintain since the entirety of thi****s story is prewritten. If you enjoy it, leave a review!**

**-Ana**

**. . .**

Chapter 12

"Consider your super-soldier victorious, Director. Definitely a keeper." Realizing how that sounded, Mia added, "Very handy in negotiations—well, if he meant to apply reverse psychology. If not, you might want to consider it a bit of a bust."

"Paxton. "Again, Fury didn't even turn around at Mia's approach."You're lucky Stark's not here to comment on that statement," he said, trying to recalibrate the screens of his display panels. "Glad to see you've changed your mind."

"You might look a little more enthusiastic about it. It's not every day the world's best anarchical journalist jumps ship—especially when Captain America is trying to convince her not to."

"Rogers _didn't _want you to fight?" the Director asked, still working.

Mia rolled her eyes. "The guy's still stuck on the whole 'civilian' thing. Not to mention I think there's a faint, protective misogyny in there. A bit outdated, really—I mean, you don't see him questioning Widow's ability, do you?"

"Romanoff would kill him on the spot."

"Yeah, well. I think he forgets I was actually on the force at one point or another. I've had my share of training too—and other things." She twirled a tiny ball of energy sparks between her fingertips.

"Indeed." The Director didn't even acknowledge this display.

"So?" Mia crossed her arms. "Do I get an apology for your snooping into my background or not? Because that's really unprofessional, intelligence agency or not. Bad faith, you know?"

Fury turned slightly, giving her a one-eyed look of disbelief. "Really? After you knew oh so much about Phase 2—which had a level _ten_ security clearance, I might add—you want me to apologize for snooping on _your _personal history?"

"Okay, fine. Maybe we are sort of even. Apologies for any inconveniences it may have caused you—though, you did in fact create the mess yourselves."

"Hill!" Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Come and take Paxton to the armory please, before my eardrums start hemorrhaging." He looked at Mia again, taking in her SHIELD issue clothing before handing her a keycard. "You'll find something more suitable to wear in locker 47-B. I never thought I'd see you in SHIELD gear, and the sooner I don't the better. It's like some sort of nightmare."

"Honestly Fury, I couldn't have put it better myself."

"The doctors assure me that you are stable, for the time being. Your unique energy signals are continuously fluctuating, but in a predictable manner that they assure me is 'normal' for your situation." Nick looked so dissatisfied with that term that Mia wanted to blast him right then and there.

Hill came up, looking slightly worse for wear with several gashes on her cheek and forehead. They had been cleaned and no doubt sanitized, but still looked far from comfortable—as did the nasty looking bruise on her left cheekbone. "I'll show you down," she said, just as cool as ever in the presence of her boss.

They left immediately, as Fury was pulled away to clear up some sort of security issue and Maria was in a hurry herself. Once out of the bridge, however, the senor agent sighed tiredly.

"God, what a day," she moaned. Mia was surprised—it wasn't like Hill to complain while on duty. But it was just them in the hall at the moment, so she let it slide.

"Rough day at work?" Mia joked, nudging her friend—then grimacing, because she'd forgotten not to use her injured arm.

"You could say that."

Upon arriving in the armory, Mia took in the sight of all the weapons wide eyed. She'd seen her share of firearms and explosives, but this was truly impressive—yes, even considering Phase 2. It was a bit of a wreck from the incursion, and smoke from the nearby totaled engine was still hanging in the room, but it was still quite the sight.

Maria led her to a remote corner of the smoky armory, coughing as she headed towards a row of large lockers built directly into the wall of a large alcove. Somehow, these looked more important than the ones around it, and had built in keycard readers. The entire alcove looked important, and sort of off-limits.

Mia did tense up a bit, though, at the sight of Romanoff with a man she recognized as agent Barton. She remembered hearing he'd been recovered from Loki's clutches, but had he really been cleared for duty so quickly? Mia felt that much less honored by the fact that regardless of skill, SHIELD was letting clearly unstable people out in the field—but then, what was the Hulk if not unstable? Not that they had any idea where he was now.

Widow and the archer known as Hawkeye were in a corner, sitting on a bench and apparently deep in conversation. They looked up warily as she and Hill passed by, the senor agent giving the two a respectful if not tight nod. Both just stared at Mia as if she were entirely out of place. At the moment, Mia felt like shouting 'I was a cop, fuckers!' at the top of her lungs—an impulse that remained barely checked.

Barely.

"Card." Mia handed Hill the card, noting how carefully Maria took it to avoid the sparks. Still, a few clung to the agent's sleeve and stung her.

"Ow!" she hissed, shaking off the hand as if stung. The sparks fell from the fabric and evaporated.

"Sorry," Mia apologized contritely, thinking yet again how remarkable it was that Steve was entirely unaffected by the sparks. She wondered now if it had something to do with the serum—then forced the idea from her mind. No doubt Steve would be angry with her for a while to come—he may not even want anything to do with her after this was all over. _So much for that kiss,_ she thought ruefully. _Guess I'll just have to make do with the one._

"Not a problem," Hill replied briskly. She turned and swiped the card while Mia felt and tried to ignore the weight of the stares coming from the opposite corner of the alcove.

Maria opened the large metal door with a clang. To Mia's surprise, inside the locker was hung a black bodysuit, clearly cut for a woman. It was tightly fitting, with the fabric made of some kind of shiny, sleek material with a honeycomb pattern that Mia didn't recognize. The sleeves were cut to latch around the thumbs into a form of half glove, with raised bands around the wrists. The neckline of the garment was high, like the SHIELD issue one she was wearing, but instead of a single grey zipper there were two, monochromatic diagonal zippers that ran parallel down from the left shoulder to the waistline.

Besides this, there were no apparent features or hidden compartments to the suit. It was a one-piece item, with combat boots to match.

"Am I the only one thinking footie pajamas right now?" Mia asked, looking at the suit with an unhidden disdain.

"Trust me," Maria told her. "There's more to this thing than meets the eye." She gave it a long, lingering look before turning to Mia.

"Well, I never thought I'd be saying this to you," Hill said, her eyebrows arched, "but suit up."

"Right. Thank you." Mia sighed and made to move around the agent—when she suddenly found herself in a somewhat awkward if not crushing hug.

"Be careful," Hill whispered in her ear. "This is delicate ground you're treading." Then she released her, giving the startled journalist a half smile before leaving the alcove without another word.

Well, shit, Mia thought, watching her friend leave. That's never a good sign.

"Hey." Mia jumped, surprised to see Widow on her right where Hill had been moments before. Damn the smoke for making things so difficult to observe—literally.

"Agent Romanoff." Mia turned to face the woman. To her surprise, the assassin didn't look as unforgiving as usual. In fact, her expression was something between pity and camaraderie.

"Paxton." She even sounded neutral—as opposed to her usual somewhat distrustful monotone. Romanoff looked slowly up at the suit in the locker. "Need a little help?"

As frightening as the idea of the Black Widow seeing her in her underwear was, Mia nevertheless found herself in a changing stall three minutes later with the assassin. Luckily, the booth was spacious, so things weren't quite as embarrassing as they could have been.

Still. She was in her underwear. With the Black Widow. An armed Black Widow.

But then, when wasn't the Black Widow armed? Her entire body was a weapon.

Mia just wanted out of there as quickly as possible.

As it was, Romanoff didn't seem to be in any kind of a hurry. She was prepping the suit while Mia was stripping cautiously behind her—partially afraid that if she accidentally bumped the assassin while unclothed, it might be the last move she ever made.

"You know," Romanoff said eventually, looking at Mia in the mirror as if nothing about the situation were indecent at all, "I know what you're going through right now."

Mia didn't exactly know what to say to this. Romanoff glanced down at the dark garment in her hands, almost sadly. "It wasn't too long ago I joined SHIELD, looking for a fresh start," Somehow, even now her voice sounded dangerous. Still, there was the alarming fact that she was being vulnerable—though admittedly not as vulnerable as Mia was at the moment.

"I won't bore you with details," the redhead went on, taking Mia's SHIELD issue uniform from her. "But my childhood was pretty warped too. I think we've both been used in ways we'd rather not relive." She looked up, green eyes meeting green ones. "I know what it's like to carry scars no one sees."

Mia stiffened. Damn her recent susceptibility to becoming paralyzed.

Romanoff sensed her discomfort, and turned away. "And," she continued, "given the circumstances, I think an alliance between the two of us is in order." She passed Mia the bodysuit, the material slippery in her hands.

"An alliance?" Mia said, disbelief apparent. She flicked a few stray strands of hair from her eyes, and began slipping the suit on feet first. "With me? Why?"

"Well, for starters, I think Captain Rogers will bust a seam if we all don't get along." Was that a hint of humor in her tone? Definitely. The woman was giving Mia a small, wry smile. "I sense teamwork means a great deal to him, given his background."

"No kidding." Now up to her waist in the skin tight outfit, Mia struggled to pull on an arm. "Not that he's exactly thrilled to have me as a part of that team, but…"

"Rogers is trying to protect you," Romanoff interjected. She crossed her arms and leaned back against a counter jutting out from the wall. "Something he's been doing for a while now. Not that I agree with him, because I've seen what you can do."

Cringing, Mia slipped the last arm on, and began on her numerous cross-body zippers.

"Anyone who can _create_ a shield to deflect projectiles out of _pure energy_, like you did back in the lab, deserves to be a part of our team." Mia was surprised at this. "Yes, I saw what you did before I…" she cocked her head. "Before I took a tumble with Banner."

"Right." Mia tried to look busy with her zippers. Trying to hide her shame was the only thing that mattered at the moment.

"I've also read the _Project Midas_ files."

_Well, shit. _

That's good to know," Mia replied. Very stiffly. "It seems like everybody knows what's in that file except me."

"Mia."

Since when did Black Widow call people by their first names? Off the top of her head, Mia could only remember three times: with Barton (that had been a slip-up during his absence, actually) Fury and Banner. Seeing as Widow didn't know Banner on a personal level, Mia assumed it was either an attempt to either get through to her or, like the agent had suggested, an alliance.

"What I do isn't kind. It isn't noble, and a lot of times it hasn't even been justice. I remember people telling me back in Russia that my abilities were 'gifts'. I know now, just like I did then, that that's not the case. But they're still skills." She peered at Mia meaningfully. "Skills that can be used for the right reason. I think that's something we can both do." She sized up the journalist's suit, brushing off her shoulders and checking a few seams. "And I think that we _can_ work together as a team. Even if only based on the fact that neither of us is entirely comfortable with what we're able to do."

Mia actually snickered at this. "Sorry," she apologized. "It's not you. It's just that I really have no idea what I'm getting into here." She looked down at her new outfit ruefully. "The frightening thing is that that doesn't make me change my mind."

"Then nothing will." Romanoff smiled grimly again. "And hey: if Captain America trying to talk you out of it didn't work, I'm not sure anything will."

Both women laughed at this.

"There's something else." Romanoff took her by the wrist so suddenly that Mia had a slight panic attack. The agent failed to notice this, however, and simply pressed a button on her wrist. "This suit? It's fully automated."

As if in response to her words, the entire suit seemed to come alive, a strange vibration coming over Mia's skin. It made her want to scratch at her entire body in revulsion.

"It's just calibrating. After a few minutes, you won't feel a thing."

"This isn't SHIELD issue gear," Mia observed.

"No. It isn't." Confused by the agent's tone, Mia looked up and found herself staring through a hologram. Upon closer inspection, Mia realized it was being projected from her wrist—but that wasn't the alarming thing. The alarming thing was the logo being projected into the air.

"_Wintech_?" Mia breathed, horrified. The urge to scratch the suit off multiplied by a thousand - even more so when the suit changed colors to a bright gold. The same gold color, in fact, as her energy.

Romanoff bore a serious expression now, eye narrowed slightly—not at Mia, but at the suit. "This suit was the only thing of interest recovered from the _Wintech _building, after it went under. It's suspected to be the only direct link to _Midas."_

Mia felt like hurling. "Why? Why would they give it to me now?" she asked, horrified. "They know what this suit was built upon; the _lives _it cost—"

"They gave it to you because now is the time it's finally needed," Romanoff stated bluntly with a toss of her hair. "As a product of _Project Midas_ it can only be worn by an individual with your unique biological makeup—a person with your skills. The only_living _person, being _you_."

At first, Mia was tempted to take the suit off and do as Steve had told her: step away. It _was_ getting too personal now, and she knew it.

_The Avengers Initiative,_ the journalist recalled. If there was only one person who could wear the suit, there was only one person who could avenge the lives it had cost. That person was her—could only be her. It took Mia a moment to set this in line with her other reasons for fighting before she was ready.

"Thank you, agent Romanoff."

The redheaded assassin's eyes glinted. "You can call me Natasha. And…you're welcome." She took a step closer. "Now, let me show you what it does."

. . .

It didn't take a giant leap of imagination to guess where Stark had gone. So all the way to the holding level Steve wasn't even thinking about the conversation ahead—instead, about the confrontation behind.

What had gotten into Mia? He knew she was stubborn, hard headed even. He knew she didn't see boundaries when it came to calling people's bluff. He knew she had an abundance of reasons to want to take Loki down, regardless of the odds—but most of all, Steve knew Mia was _smart._ Why couldn't she see how out of her element she was and let the others take care of it? Let _him _take care of it?

Steve was a little—scratch that, a _lot_ alarmed at how quickly he had become attached to Mia. They had a tremendous amount of common ground, yes…but there was something else. He had all but admitted it to her face when he had promised her a kiss in the near distant future. Steve cared about her, and didn't want any harm to come to the journalist in any way, shape or form. The entire situation with Loki had been horrendous enough, without her past and PTSD coming back to haunt her. Now she was ready to throw herself head first into a fight that was bigger than anything she had ever attempted—hell, Steve didn't even know how much manpower Loki had on his side.

Steve was upset, angry at her for not seeing reason. And now, he had to deal with her equally sarcastic male counterpart: Tony Stark.

Honestly, how had Howard's son become such a pain in the rear?

Still, Steve wasn't blind. He could see as clear as day the pain the man was feeling at the loss of agent Coulson. Clearly, Stark blamed himself—so Steve knew not to approach him with hostility, but compassion.

His mind still swarming with the image of Mia's hell-bent expression, the worry still heavy on his heart, Steve approached the causeway encasing the cage.

"Was he married?"

Tony stood on another adjoining ramp, staring at the empty space left by the lost cell. Hands behind his back, eyes glazed as he tried to distance himself emotionally from the loss. "No," he replied, snapping back to reality. "There was a cellist...I think."

"I'm sorry." Steve stared over his crossed arms at the metal ramp. Why couldn't Mia just _listen? _He knew it wasn't wise to have his head in two places at once, but he honestly couldn't help it.

"He seemed like a good man."

Tony shrugged stiffly. "He was an idiot," he said, gesturing dismissively.

"Why? For believing?" Mia's words hung in his ears. _We owe it to people like Coulson—people who still _believe _in heroes—to be the best we can be, regardless of what haunts us or gives us nightmares._

"For taking on Loki alone." Tony drew away from the edge, snorting in disgust—or was it anger? "Shit, Mia would do the same thing if she could. Stupid. Stupid!" He kicked at the floor.

Actually, Steve didn't doubt that. He also agreed that yes, it was stupid. But he didn't say that aloud. "He was doing his job."

Tony scoffed. "Please. He was out of his league. He should have waited! He should have…"

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right. I've heard that before…you and Paxton really have a knack for saying the wrong things, ya know?"

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

"We are NOT soldiers!"Tony spat venomously, whirling on Steve in barely checked rage. Then he stiffened, and wilted slightly. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife," he explained.

"Neither am I. Neither is Mia—that much is damn sure. Fury's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But right now, we've got to put that behind us and get this done." Steve sighed tensely, gesturing in the direction of the bridge. "Mia's in there, reporting to Fury for battle."

Tony's face tensed. "She's doing _what."_

"I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen." Steve ran a hand through his hair worriedly.

Stark glared at him. "You little shit. You don't get it, do you? Try and talk Mia out of something, she just wants to do it _more. _God, you're dense."

"She usually listens to me."

"What, once? She's a _woman_, Cap. She thinks she knows better than you, guaranteed!"

"Well what was I supposed to do? Tie her up?!"

"Something! Anything!" Tony turned in a circle, clearly distraught. "Damn it, Rogers! She may have lied about her past, but that woman…" he trailed off. "You _saw_ what she did to that guy in the turbine wing. If she loses it again, if she goes back into that place, she could kill us all." The billionaire leaned against the metal wall.

"So could Banner. So could Romanoff. So could you, or I. We're all volatile here, Stark."

"But this is different!" He stared at Steve, desperation in his eyes that unsettled the Captain immensely. "Mia is one of Pepper and my friends—one of our _only_ friends. She found out about me in a bad way and despite that, we all became close. Over the years she's become like a sister to me—and that's a hard thing to do. Get close to Tony Stark? Pfft. Only one other woman has accomplished that—perhaps that's part of the reason they're friends."

"She does have a way with people." Steve thought back to how he'd felt in the Phase 2 area, when he'd first opened up to Mia. Like he could tell her anything, and she wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't use it against him. "It must help a lot in her line of work."

"Exactly. Mia's a journalist, not a soldier. Not an 'avenger'. She belongs at her desk, safe, away from all this!"

"What do you think I was trying to do!?" Steve exploded. "I want her safe too, Tony. I feel something with her that I didn't think I'd ever feel again; and I'm not too keen on giving that up when I've only just…" He paused, alarmed at his outburst. Tony looked a bit taken aback as well.

"We need to figure this out," Steve said, trying to change the subject. "Loki needs a power source. If we can put together a list—"

"He made it personal." Tony was staring at the bloodstain on the wall—the proof of Coulson's sacrifice.

"That's not the point."

"That _is _the point. That's Loki's point."Realization was dawning on Tony's face. "He hit us here, right where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart."

"Yeah, 'divide and conquer' is great, but…" The genius began to pace. "That was before he knew about Mia. Now, he's got something to lose—and we've got something he _wants. _He knows he has to take us out to win, right? To take back his 'Intended'?"

Steve frowned at the term.

"_That's _what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it—especially by _her_—he wants an audience, and Mia's got a front row seat."

"Right. I caught his act in Stuttgart. Mia was watching the whole thing—and he _knows_," Steve realized. "I said her name, over the COM."

"Yeah. That was just previews. This is opening night. And Loki, he's a full-tilt diva, right?" Tony began gesturing grandly/ "He wants flowers, he wants parades. He wants a monument built to the sky with his name plastered—"

Steve gave Tony a meaningful raise of his eyebrows.

Tony's face froze in a totally pissed expression of understanding. "Son of a bitch."


	14. Chapter 13

**This chapter brings us to the Battle. Hope you guys are ready! **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**-Ana**

Chapter 13

After Romanoff—that is, _Natasha_, had finished showing Mia the suit's entire, rather wide and surprising array of features, the journalist turned Avenger knew what she needed to do.

"Paxton. I should have known you'd come." Tony was repairing circuits inside of his Iron Man helmet. He turned slightly, soldering iron still aflame, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Interesting suit there. I'm assuming you were aiming for the 'power ranger' look?"He shut the device off and set it down on the table.

"Horrible pun." Mia lifted both hands to her throat. "But if you don't like it, don't look." With a shimmer of golden sparks, she vanished.

Completely vanished—as in no longer visible, _at all._

Tony straightened, casting his eyes about the room in panic. "Okay okay! I take it back, God!" He held up his hands, as if unsure from what angle he needed to shield himself.

"Well that's new." Tony whirled to find Mia had reappeared behind him. The back of the helmet was removed, and she was fiddling with a little flap on his inside near the mouth. "What does this do, dispense candy or something?" A yellow candy popped out. "Oh my God! It _does._ Does Pepper know about this?" She popped the candy into her mouth. "Hmm. Skittle. I'm guessing you've only got red and yellow ones in here. How convenient they're monogrammed with an S—"

"Don't touch that!" Tony came and swatted her partially gloved hands, getting a slight shock in return. "Ow! Can't you turn those things off?"

"Not really, no." Mia withdrew, rubbing her hands together thoughtfully as the golden sparks enveloped them up to her wrists. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

Tony looked her up and down a second time. "Is that _Wintech _gear?" he asked, running a finger down the arm of the material. Now it was Mia's turn to swat at his hand. "OW!"

"Then don't touch my stuff."

"Oh, very funny. Touché." Tony rolled his eyes. "I guess it's doubly yours, seeing as it's your _daddy's_ work in the first place. You've just retaken possession."

Mia frowned, but her eyes were sharp. "Don't go there, Tony. I don't bring up Howard's work to spite you."

Tony actually flinched—but only very slightly. "Fair enough."

Both adults looked at each other, eye-to-eye.

"You know I never wanted to lie to you."

Tony picked up his welding gun again. "Yeah, well. You were lying to everyone. Guess Pepper and I just weren't exceptions."

"Tony." Mia lowered his hand. Surprisingly, Tony didn't resist. She guessed he wasn't as angry anymore—a boon, considering their circumstances. "Look at me."

The man turned back to face her, wearing the beginnings of a scowl.

"We've always been truthful with each other. I can understand why this hurts. But you need to understand what you're saying here. I _was_ lying to everyone. No, you and Pepper weren't an exception—but not because you two didn't deserve to be. Jane and Darcy deserved to know too, but they don't—even now.

Mia sighed. "Tony, anyone who knows about me is in danger. My father has eyes, everywhere—_ears_, everywhere. He used to have a machine that kept track of every person in America, and constantly evaluated them for threats, predicting any acts of violence as a means of counter-terrorism—and _control_."

Tony looked intrigued by this idea."What happened to it? Did the guy succeed?"

"Yeah, he did. Convincing its creator to take it and hide it away was one of my first tasks as a journalist—he'd helped me get a new identity, and a place here in New York. The Machine is still somewhere in the city, tracking everyone—but not for the Government. Its creator runs it independently of any organization, using it to track non-terrorist crimes and stop them before they can occur. He's a good man. One of my allies, in fact."

"Wow." It took a lot for Tony Stark to look impressed—however, impressed he was. "Hey wait a minute…that kind of operation takes money—_big _money. Do I know this guy? Is he still public? I'll bet he's in big tech. Ooh ooh! I know. He's—"

"Tony!" Mia huffed. "Pay attention."

"You're still in lecture mode, right."

She rolled her eyes. "Tony, be serious for once. What I'm trying to say is that by lying to you, by keeping _everyone_ in the dark about my true identity, I both protect you all _and_ ensure I'm not _captured_. Because that's that would happen, if I'm found out. My father has no need to resurrect me—however _Project Midas _is in sore need of new data."

The billionaire stared down at his helmet, eyes locked on his own creation. "I understand," he said eventually. "Mind you, I don't like it_, _but I do _understand. _I know what it's like to just want to protect the people you care about." His expression grew distant, troubled. No doubt he was hoping Pepper would be somewhere safe in the inevitable and upcoming battle.

"So?" Mia gave Tony a wry sideways look that they'd often shared in the past. "What do you say, Stark? Can we move past the fact that I'm the president's daughter and a freak that throws energy around for a hobby_?_ Cause at this point, that's old news."

"You'd know, oh 'mistress of the headlines'." Still, after a tense moment of deliberation, Tony grabbed Mia and wrapped her in a bone crushing hug.

Mia grinned in relief, wrapping her arms around her friend and patting him slowly on the back, as if consoling him. "That was _really _bad, Tony. _Really _bad, even for you."

"But you're laughing. Can't be that bad, can it?" He let her go, holding her at arms distance. Tony's face had gone deathly serious. "Mia, this is the real deal, the big leagues. Please tell me you're ready for this? Because if you don't, I'm going to let the Capsicle tie you up—and not in the way you're hoping."

"Tony!" She slapped his arm, shocking him in the process.

"Ow," Tony whined, pretending he was actually wounded.

"He's not my boyfriend." Mia didn't look impressed at his antics. In reality, she was doing all she could not to blush.

"But you wish he was."

Mia turned away, going back to fiddling with the helmet. "Whatever." She popped another skittle into her mouth—this time, a red one.

"Hey, I said don't touch that." Tony moved her hand—and was shocked a _third_ time.

"OW!"

"Can't help it, remember?"

"Yeah, well. Save it for the battle, cat eyes." He observed her keenly. "Seriously though, Mia. Tell me you can do this. I've lost enough people lately. I need to know I'm not going to lose you too."

Mia looked at him, green eyes shining. "You're not going to get rid of me that easy, Ironass," she told him. "I've had a lot more practice with my skills than you know." She chose to use the term Natasha had chosen, finding it tolerable in place of 'gifts'. "I know what's at stake here. But I also know what I'm _doing_."

After a moment, Tony grinned back her. "Well then. I guess that's settled. Cap'll just have to put a cork in it. Let's get me suited up for this, shall we?" He grabbed his soldering iron a second time, pulling his protective goggles back down over his eyes.

"Sure thing." Mia popped yet another skittle into her mouth—how she'd gotten it, Tony wasn't sure.

"I thought I told you to stop eating those?"

"And when do I ever do as I'm told? I'm an _anarchist. _It's in the description."

Tony sighed. "Paxton, honestly. _Behave_."

"Likewise, Stark."

A wry look crossed the man's face. "Behave like_ what, _exactly?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

. . .

It was time.

Steve had gone to suit up after his talk with Stark. Stark had decided to make the necessary repairs to his Iron Man suit and return to his tower as quickly as possible. Steve saw to it that Romanoff was ready—and Romanoff had vouched for Barton. Now all three were prepped and making their way to the hangar.

Steve hadn't seen hide or hair of Mia during his rounds of the ship. He wondered if Fury had vetoed her participation after all—but then, he couldn't ask Fury, so he couldn't know.

That is, until Romanoff told him straight up.

"Paxton's already in gear," she informed him, as they made their way to the nearest available quinjet. "She went to talk to Stark."

Steve gritted his teeth. "I had hoped Fury would change his mind."

"As if. He's enthralled with her abilities—she's like a shiny new toy at Christmas for him."

Steve walked for a while, thinking. Why couldn't she just stay safe? Why did she have to put herself in danger, at risk for another of her panic attacks? Especially when that was exactly what Loki wanted? What if Loki influenced her mind during the battle, turning her against them? While Steve knew that Mia would never do such a thing of her own volition, it was highly possible that Loki would use his recovered scepter to turn her alliance to him.

With an irritated twitch of his head at the idea, Steve strode into the nearest quinjet.

"Hey you guys aren't authorized to be in here," said an agent performing a general tune-up on the plane's instruments.

"Son, just don't." Steve's tone was a little too sharp. The agent scurried off fearfully, not wanting to challenge three armed legends in any way whatsoever. Romanoff smirked at Steve, knowing what his problem was.

"A little edgy, Rogers?" she asked wryly, taking a seat at the controls beside Barton. Steve stood watching them, a faint scowl on his brow.

Steve didn't answer at first, then let out a short huff. "Yeah, maybe a little."

Romanoff paused, looking down at the controls. "You really care about her, don't you?" she asked the super-soldier quietly.

Steve looked down at the floor, his blond hair hanging in a wave before his eyes. Blocking the sight of the person at the bay door.

"Care about whom, Natasha?"

Steve looked up to see a woman in a black bodysuit, standing framed in the light from the doorway. Her hands glowing with ambient sparks even though her arms were crossed, hair falling in auburn waves around her shoulders, green eyes sparkling in question. A challenging quirk to her lips.

Mia.

She wasn't as curvaceous as Romanoff, but there was a way that the suit clung to her that accented her build perfectly. One of her diagonal zippers was left partially undone, leaving a triangle of skin exposed on the left side of her chest. It was…distracting, Steve decided. Decidedly distracting.

"This is Paxton?" Barton asked, an eyebrow raised as he took her in from head to toe. Mia pulled her eyes from Steve's startled face and looked at the archer for the first time.

"Hawkeye?" she asked.

"What gave it away?" Barton asked in a strange voice. Romanoff rolled her eyes. Was that his best attempt at a seductive tone? He _had_ just had a complete mental recalibration, after being brainwashed for a prolonged period of time, but…still.

"Well, the quiver for starts," said Mia with all of her usual sarcasm. "Mia Paxton—or, Bridget Winters, if you prefer."

Barton frowned. "The president's dead kid?"

"The very same." Seeing Steve staring at her, Mia shrugged. "What? He's going to find out anyway. And I've kind of come to terms with the dual identity thing after talking with Tony."

Steve tensed, readjusting his grip on his shield in a vaguely threatening way.

Barton looked impressed. "Wow. Name's Barton. Clint, Barton. Call me either."

Natasha backhanded him.

"Ow!"

"Stop that," she ordered, slipping on a headset. "You're not the flirty type. Don't start now. Besides, you'll have to get in line for that show." Romanoff cast a glance back at Steve that Barton didn't miss.

"Ah. I see. Watch that door, Paxton."

Mia stepped away from the gangway as it shut with a clang. She looked over at Steve, who was staring at the wall and not making eye contact.

"Steve," she tried, feeling out the waters.

"Mia." Yikes. He was still pissed, given his tone.

Mia sighed. "Steve, could we just talk about what happened? Honestly, I didn't mean—"

"What, to ignore my advice? To step right into Loki's line-of-fire at your own risk?"

"No. No actually, that was exactly what I meant to do," Mia replied, unfazed.

Steve took a few steps toward her, crossing the quinjet's aisle. "Why do you have to make the choice that makes the least amount of strategic sense? By all rights, you should be as far away from the battle as possible, drawing Loki's attention _away. _Just because joining in the fight is morally right doesn't mean it's the right call."

"Look who's talking!" Mia scoffed, taking a step closer and squaring off with the man who was much, much larger than her. "I think you just don't like that it wasn't your call to make, _Captain."_

Steve looked down at her, eyes narrowed. "You're not wrong. If it were my call, you _wouldn't_ be here."

"Great." Mia stiffened, swallowing hard. "It's nice to see how far we've fallen from your believing in me. Nice to see you've given up on my abilities. I'm starting to think you were just blowing smoke up my—"

"Asking you to step away isn't giving up, Mia! I _still _believe in you. But I never said this was your fight!"

"How is it not?" Mia scowled at him. "Loki is bound to _me_, Steve. He reacts to _me,_ whether he wants to or not. That _alone _is a decided advantage.Then take this into affect" –she held up her hands—"and you've got a hell of an upper hand."

"I don't _want _an upper hand!" Steve cried, exasperated. By now, Romanoff and Barton were swapping looks of disbelief in the cockpit. "I've fought battles _without_ the upper hand before; I can do that again! But what I _can't _do is let you risk everything you've worked for over the past nine years be destroyed in the space of an afternoon."

"I'm already compromised, Rogers!" The journalist was exasperated by now. "The integrity of my cover was blown the moment I was brought aboard the _Valiant._ Why do you think I was so upset, hmm? Because I was put out about the sudden change of scenery? No!" Mia clenched her fists, feeling her power building up inside of her.

"Are you two okay, or do we need to let you out for a couple's spar?" Barton asked. "We're _are_ about to put this thing in the air and head off to stop a worldwide takeover. But if you two need some time—"

"WE'RE FINE, BARTON!" both Mia and Steve yelled at the same time.

"Fine, fine. Sheesh." He looked at Romanoff. "Are we like that?" he asked.

"We're not a couple, Barton," Natasha replied.

"Neither are we," Mia said coolly, eying the man before her. Steve seemed equally put out—both by the situation, and her statement. "This is absolutely idiotic, Steve. We're already in this together, the least you can do is stand by my side when—"

"Stand by your side?" Steve took an impossibly close step forward, looking down at her so that their noses were almost touching. "Stand by your side? Is that what you think I need to do? I wanted to _protect _you, Mia. But you can't even let me do that."

"Stop making this so goddamn personal! When it comes down to it, the fate of the world is way more important than what happens to little old me. Bottom line, end of story. Protecting me isn't a priority. Get _yours _straight!" Mia jabbed him in the chest at _yours._

Steve blinked at her for several seconds. Then, the most surprising thing yet happened.

He backed down. "If you think I'm not going to have your back out there, you're mistaken," he told her. He looked her up and down. "Welcome to the team, Paxton." With that, Steve walked to the other side of the jet and stared out a window.

Mia let out her breath, not having realized she was holding it in the first place. Something inside of her was unsatisfied with this resolution. It felt like Steve hadn't accepted her, despite his words; like he'd given up on her and was distancing himself, as if just waiting for her to die in the battle ahead.

She sat down with a huff on one of the benches lining the wall, resting her elbows on her knees and playing with a ball of golden energy absentmindedly. Mia tried to reassure herself that despite being year out of practice and the fact that she was extremely emotionally compromised, she was ready for what was coming. It was such an obvious lie that she didn't know why she bothered trying, other than to give herself a bit of a confidence boost in the face of what was already terrible odds.

What was Loki going to summon, she wondered? According to some of the mathematical projections in Selvig's notes, the portal would be massive, some several miles wide. Anything could come through that, anything at all.

Thus she wasn't surprised when Barton let out a colorful string of swears when approaching New York. Mia got up, bracing herself for the sight awaiting her as she walked to the cockpit.

There above the city was a large, Tesseract-colored hole in the sky. The normal blue of the sky was disrupted, a dark gaping hole swarming with thousands of tiny specks flying out of it by the second.

"I'm gonna bet those are a lot bigger up close," Mia muttered, fisting her energy ball. It crumbled into golden dust and scattered on the floor of the jet.

"I second that notion." Barton accelerated the plane, doubling their pace. Mia flinched at the sense of vertigo in her stomach, casting a glance at the Captain at the same time. He still had his eyes locked on the skyline, a grim expression on his face. Mia didn't like it, but forced herself not to think of Clem—which, in a way, _was_ thinking of Clem anyway. Damn psychology.

"Stark, we're on your three, headed northeast," Natasha said into her headset while co-piloting the jet.

Tony's voice filled the stereo. "What? Did you stop for drive-thru?"

"More of a domestic dispute."

Mia rolled her eyes at that.

Tony read between the lines instantly. "Ugh. If it weren't for all of this I'd tell those to two to get a room already. As it is, swing up Park. I'm going to lay them out for you."

They did as they were ordered. During the exchange of fire Mia crouched low to the ground, trying to keep her center of gravity as she was otherwise prone to flailing about with the sudden changes of direction. She did pay attention to where they were going, though. It was only when they were hovering above Stark Tower that she realized what was going on, and what she needed to do.

"Nat?" Barton said, looking out the window to his left.

"I see him." They turned the jet. Mia clambered to her feet, and her eyes fell on two specks of color atop the tower. Red and green.

"Well, would you look at that. And it's not even Christmas." She made her way to an escape door in the jet's side, flinging open the door.

"Mia!" It was only then that Mia remembered Steve was even there. "What the hell are you doing?"

She turned to face him, her hair whipping in the wind from the open door. "What I do best, Captain," she replied in a half yell. "Confronting the bad guy." She set her hands to her neck, vanishing.

"MIA!" Steve ran to the door, reaching it seconds too late as an invisible Mia fell, hurtling in an organized freefall towards the roof below.

. . .

The plane caught fire from the bolt of Loki's scepter just moments after Mia hit the Tower. She did a long forward somersault on the hard paved surface, head bowed as she came to a stop with her glowing palms flat on the hot stone. Hearing a horrible whirring sound reminiscent of the _Valiant_'s shattered turbine, Mia looked up and caught sight of the quinjet crashing; its left wing engulfed in flames.

Still invisible, Mia made a split second decision and thrust her hands forward, golden sparks flying out of her fingertips towards the aircraft. They wrapped around the burning engine and the undercarriage of the plane, slowing and controlling it's decent to a level decline in altitude rather than a full on crash as Barton piloted it to a safe landing space—safe being relative, at the moment.

Mia set her hands to her neck, making herself visible, with bright green eyes glaring at the two brawling demi-gods.

"HEY!" she shot a blast of energy at them. Both men stopped mid punch and looked at her. A grin spread over Loki's mouth. Thor scowled.

"Mia," Loki said, panting slightly. "How marvelous to see you, my love."

"Lady Mia, you ought not be here!" Thor yelled. Mia rose to her feet, her suit changing colors from black to its usual golden color. She strode confidently towards the men, hands bristling with sparks.

"Yeah, well. Couldn't really stay home when the world's falling to pieces." She raised a glowing finger at them. "Break it up, you two."

"I'm wishing you'd make me," Loki said wryly.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Careful what you wish for." She shot a bolt at them, Loki deflecting it with his staff. It bounced away and knocked the R in Stark off the building. Thor stumbled backward away from his brother.

"Tony's really gonna be pissed about the damage you've done to the tower," Mia commented thoughtfully. She looked out at the city under attack. "I'll spend my time holding you accountable for the damage to New York."

"The damage is inconsequential," Loki said, eyeing it with gleaming eyes. "It is a necessary part of the takeover, I assure you. I shall rebuild the city a thousand times over, if you wish." He took her in, the cold chill sweeping over her even in the hot sun of the afternoon. "Fabulous garments. Your father's work, I presume."

"Oh, so you've read the _Project Midas _file too?" The journalist scowled. "So help me, when this is all over I'm going to get my hands on that thing if I have to go to DC and break into the Triskelion myself."

A series of nearby explosions shook the building. Mia bent to retain her balance, while Thor took the opportunity to lunge at Loki again with a loud roar.

"Look at this!" he yelled at his brother. "Do you think this madness will end with your rule?"

"He's right, Loki." Mia stood a ways off, not intervening physically because that was just a flat out stupid idea. "This is not the way to prove your worth. I warned you this would happen!"

"It's too late," Loki told them both. His eyes lingered on Mia—almost sadly, she thought. "It's too late to stop it."

"No," Thor insisted, throwing a look back at Mia as if for backup. "We can, together."

"Let us help you!" she yelled over the noise, staring at Loki with serious green eyes. "This can be undone. You can always make another choice."

Loki's eyes shifted between them, as if deciding something. For a moment Mia actually thought—and hoped, desperately—that he was about to reconsider.

But just before that hope could blossom into real optimism, Loki stabbed Thor through a chink in his armor with a concealed blade.

"The sentiment," he breathed, grinning soullessly. Thor clutched at his side in disbelief, and looked up at Loki with the same feeling mirrored on his face that Mia felt: overwhelming disappointment. "But as I've stated before, my decision is already made." Loki gave her a wicked smile. "Won't you change yours?"

With a yell of anger, Mia blasted a surge of energy straight at Loki's chest, it hitting him full force. Thor took the advantage and ran with it, using Loki's moment of weakness to throw him about the roof—through a window, and smack onto the ground.

Loki looked up at them for a small moment, his eyes falling on Mia with a cold light. "Fair enough," he said to her breathlessly, his expression hardening. "You've proved your allegiance."

"Damn straight." Just before Mia could fire a direct shot at his head, Loki tugged out from under Thor's foot and rolled off the roof—onto an awaiting Chitauri ship.

Thor came and stood beside her, still panting. He tugged the small dagger from his side, looking close to tears. "Lady Mia," he began, but Mia cut him off.

"Not now, Thor! Damn it," she swore, trying and failing to hit the ship with bolts of energy. The driver swerved with expert skill, as Loki threw a smug glance back at her before the ship disappeared into the city.

Thor looked down at her hands, surprised. "Your skill," he commented. Mia raised her hands questioningly. "I like it."

Mia actually gave a small grin at this. "I'll bet you do." Her talent was similar to the god of thunder, when you thought about it. She looked after the direction Loki had gone. "Bastard," she muttered.

Thor sighed. "I hate to say it, in light of his circumstance," he said mournfully. "But yes. Yes, he rather is."

Before Mia could laugh at this, a hologram lit up her left wrist. Mia held it level and saw a projection of Romanoff's face. "Paxton, where are you?"

"Shoot." Mia looked down at the city. "I'm on Stark Tower, with Thor. Loki's gone."

"Yeah, we're gettin' that," said Barton's voice in the background. "Whatever you said must have really pissed him off."

"Probably." She shared a rueful look with Thor.

"I'm sending you coordinates. We need you down here, hurry up!" Natasha's face vanished as abruptly as it had come.

"Do you need a ride?" Thor asked, redoubling his grip on Mjolnir.

"Nah, I've got it. Good luck down there," Mia told him as she scrolled down a holographic display on her the underside of her wrist.

"And you," Thor replied, looking puzzled. Mia hit something on the list and disappeared.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A few seconds later, Mia reappeared behind an overturned car with Natasha on her left, coughing from the cloud of rock dust enveloping them and settling on her shoulders and hair in a matter of moments after arrival.

"Took you long enough," the assassin muttered, loading another set of rounds into each of her handguns with blinding speed.

"Seemed fast enough to me," Barton commented from a car adjacent to them, where he was notching an arrow to his bow. "Welcome back, Paxton. Nice to see you didn't die from jumping out of a plane _without a parachute._"

"I've done worse," the journalist replied with a dismissive wave of her glowing hand. She shook off her head.

"Oh really?" Mia's face fell, and she lolled her head to her right, eyes locking on the masked super-soldier. "Like what?"

"Try arguing with a psychotic god in order to convince him to reassess his life's choices, for starters."

"Not that that went well, by the looks of things."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Good to see you too, Rogers." Apparently, Steve hadn't gotten over his grudge just yet.

"Are you even armed?" Barton wondered, looking over at her as if she were crazy.

"You could say that." With a shrug, the journalist jumped to her feet at the same time as Romanoff, firing two second blasts at the individual oncoming Chitauri . A gaping hole was blasted through their chests, occasionally two at a time if the blast went through one and hit another. Some fell from Natasha's bullets, others from Barton's arrows, and still others from Steve's shield.

After the first wave had been eliminated, Mia crouched down behind the car again with Natasha, finding herself sandwiched between the assassin and Captain America. Ignoring her tight quarters, Mia threw Barton a look that said 'well?'

"Fair enough," the archer replied, with a cheeky grin. Mia could have sworn that Steve's arm tensed against her. It was the second time in ten minutes Mia had heard the term, but she liked it much more coming from Barton. Even Steve was giving her a slightly awed sideways look, mingled with apprehension as though she might spontaneously combust any moment.

Mia looked away, hating the condemnation that had found its way into his face. She closed her eyes, replaying the scene she'd glimpsed of the people in the street below. Her face hardened. "Steve, the people."

The Captain turned his eyes onto the street as well. "They're fish in a barrel down there," he realized grimly. He looked across Mia at Romanoff.

"We've got this, it's good. Go." She nodded at Steve, and then Mia.

"Wait, me?" Mia was surprised. Green eyes turned on the soldier beside her, questioning.

Steve looked even more dissatisfied, if possible. "Fine. You're with me." He redoubled his grip on his shield. "Think you can keep up?"

Mia smirked and pulled up a tab on her wrist. She grabbed the edge of her sleeve, then pressed the inside of her wrist to Steve's arm.

"Ow!" for the first time, Steve was shocked by Mia's touch. Did that mean she disliked him now? That was just swell.

Mia ignored this. "I'll be right behind you," she assured him, not meeting his gaze. The suit was now locked onto his biological imprint, and was able to teleport to his location regardless of distance. Not that he knew that, but it was details anyway.

"Good." Steve turned to Barton. "You think you can hold them off?" he asked.

"Captain." Barton's eyes were dead serious. "It would be my genuine pleasure."

Next moment both he and Romanoff began letting off another round. Steve took the opportunity to jump off the bridge. Mia set her hands to her neck, and disappeared, jumping off after him.

Instead of hitting the bus below as Rogers had, Mia formed a sphere of golden energy around herself, slowing down her decent by at least half. She actually had the time to muse on how much she would have looked like Glinda the Good from _The Wizard of Oz_—that is, if she weren't invisible.

Then she wondered if she'd only thought of that because it was a quote Steve would understand.

Then her delay ran out, and she was hitting the ground, breaking out of the clouds of exploding debris and bolting after Rogers—which was a lot harder than it looked, what with his super-speed. Luckily Mia had a bit of an advantage as well, what with her own skills. Faster metabolism and speed was another byproduct of the _Midas _effect.

At one point she saw Steve glance back, as if looking for her. Apparently he couldn't see her sphere because of all of the smoke, but she saw him looking slightly panicked because by all rights, she should have been dead where she was standing. After all, the sphere was holding up two cars and a large patch of road behind the giant smoke cloud. Aside from that, it was easily missed behind the free floating sparks from things catching on fire.

A thin piece of metal had managed to slice through the bubble and had grazed her right cheekbone. Mia had simply scowled against the pain and kept running, despite the feeling of blood oozing down her face. She knew that it wasn't going to look nice later, but couldn't find the space to care. She had bigger problems—like the swarm of Chitauri descending on the masses for a third time, opening fire on the civilians.

She tried to block the sight out for the moment, focusing on following the Captain and not on the thousands of screaming innocents around her. He was jumping over all kinds of vehicles, while she was half running, half levitating after him.

Mia began to hear gunshots, and noticed police vehicles forming a barricade midway down the street. Automatically she began scanning the credits on the rear bumper. _Old habits die hard_, she thought ruefully. She saw cars from the eighth, sixth, second, ninth, and…"Shit, the twelfth's out," she muttered. Her old precinct, out in the middle of all this. This wasn't what they were trained for; they were totally outnumbered, outgunned. It made everything that much more personal.

Another emotional compromise, she realized. Rogers would have her head.

Her luck really was something awful, because Steve jumped right on top of what she was pretty sure she recognized as her overseeing officer's vehicle. Seconds later she landed with a light thud beside him, dropping her shield and setting her hands to her neck. In a shimmer of gold she reappeared on his left.

"Mia?" He asked, a little surprised to see her looking so unharmed—that is, except for the massive gash across her cheek . "You alright?"

"Yeah. Fine," she replied, and looked in front of the car. _Well, shit._ "Officer Reynolds?"

"Who the hell are you?" the officer answered, a younger thinner man turning around as well.

"You know these people, Paxton?" the Captain asked her.

Mia shrugged breathlessly, tossing her slightly dusty hair to one side. "Used to. This is Reynolds, and what I can only assume is his latest partner."

"Paxton?" The officer repeated, distastefully. "You mean _Mia Paxton?_ That uppity detective wanna-be that quit a handful of years back after her partner got knocked?" he squinted up at them uncertainly.

Mia's eyes narrowed into a line. "Always a way with words, Reynolds. Always a jackass."

Steve looked down at the man, his expression hard. Going into 'captain' mode, as usual. "You need people in these buildings," he commanded, gesturing. "There are people inside and they're going to be running right into the line of fire. You take them through the basements, or through the subway. You keep them _off the streets_. I need a perimeter as far back as 39th."

"Arnold's maneuver," Mia amended, using a term she knew her old associate would relate to. She saw the rookie beside him square his shoulders and nod, understanding the precinct-famous code phrase. But if she remembered correctly, Reynolds was a bit of an ass who challenged direct orders.

Apparently not much had changed, because that's what he immediately did. "Why the hell should I take orders from you and your ex-cop girlfriend?" he demanded.

As if in answer, a Chitauri ship flew around the corner, blowing up a taxi that was dangerously close. Mia jumped towards the blast, throwing up her hands and creating a solid golden wall that diffracted the explosion away from them. She actually bounced off the wall, then ricocheted back to the ground and landed in a crouch as the shield crumbled into golden dust around her.

Meanwhile, Steve was fighting off two Chitauri hand-to hand. Mia found herself being advanced upon by about five Chitauri, all armed and approaching her hesitantly, not firing—as if afraid of her after her latest display. Mia slowly broke into a grin, rising to her feet and whirling her arms around her torso before pushing her hands out from her stomach and firing circular globes of golden energy at those surrounding her and reducing them to piles of charred bodies and discarded weapons.

Steve promptly knocked out his second attacker, chopping off its arm and taking its gun before knocking it out with his shield.

Then Mia reappeared on his left, where she'd been standing before. They exchanged a look over the rim of his shield.

Reynolds promptly stalked off, giving the orders Steve had laid out to his fellow officers. Mia grinned at his retreating form.

"Congratulations," she told Steve breathlessly. "I think you're the first person to put him properly in his place since his being promoted to sergeant."

"I take it you two didn't get along so well."

"Nah, he hated me. I was so much younger, but I was the detective and he was the blue shirt. He made my job hell whenever he got the chance. The dislike was mutual." A loud beeping from her right arm alerted her to some kind of suit development as a red light began pulsing on her shoulder.

"What's that?" Steve asked quickly, as they started moving again.

"Communication prompt, I think." Mia pressed a finger to her right ear. "Paxton, Mia. Linked up."

"Paxton." Tony's voice greeted her warmly. "Long time no see! How goes the man hunt? Found yourself a demi-god? Or have you decided to go with the blond spangly alternative."

"Both," she replied ambiguously, waving a hand to swat off a beam that had been heading for her and Steve. A wave of sparks threw it away from them and into a nearby crashed and abandoned Chitauri ship, it sticking out like a steak knife.

Mia was pretty sure from the look on Steve's face that despite the helmet, he was arching an eyebrow at her.

"Stark?" he asked her. She nodded sharply.

Steve looked up at the bridge. "We need to reinforce Barton and Romanoff."

"I can do that," Mia replied.

"Yeah? How?"

Mia stepped into Steve's space, mildly surprised that he didn't take a step back. "Hold onto me," she ordered, giving him a sharp look before typing in a string of commands in her sleeve. Seeing him hesitate, she added, "I won't shock you, I promise."

Seconds later she felt his hands settle on her waist, then pulling her close against him. Mia felt the cold curve of his shield behind her head and she looked up at his face, at his lips pursed in a line and his blue eyes fixed on her. She tried not to feel anything, looking into those eyes. It never worked.

"Close your eyes," Mia told him. She watched a flicker of uncertainly flit through blue depths before golden lashes closed. Mia looked at his lips again. It would be so easy to—

"Paxton, don't you dare kiss that Capsicle."

Tony must have been in Steve's headset too, because his eyes sprang open. Confused blue eyes met guilty green ones.

It was at that unfortunate moment that they dematerialized.

. . .

"Agh!"

"Ungh."

These were the sounds they both made as they hit the bridge, Steve actually rematerializing in a jump that took out several Chitauri. Barton and Romanoff were in up to their necks in aliens, and Mia found her previous romantically derived horror morphing into just plain old horror as she summoned her power and whirled, shooting darts of energy from her fingertips like bullets.

They also didn't hit any of her comrades, the bolts bouncing off of Steve's shield and Natasha's gun with ease and not even scratching Barton when a stray bolt scraped his forehead. It had immediately dissolved on contact into golden dust that he'd swiped out of his eyes and moved on from, completely unscathed.

Thirty seconds later the four of them plus Thor stood alone on the bridge, surrounded by dead bodies, abandoned weapons and a lot of ash.

"Lady Mia," Thor greeted. He seemed to always greet her, even when not addressing the others. Perhaps it was by nature of her being his brother's Intended. Maybe it was some sort of rule, in Asgard.

"Hey there, big guy." Mia sighed, swiping sweaty hair from her eyes.

"What the story upstairs?" Steve asked.

"The power surrounding the Cube is impenetrable," Thor told them.

Stark's voice came over the COM again. "Thor's right, we've gotta deal with these guys."

"How do we do this?" Natasha wondered, looking at the chaos around them.

"As a team," the Captain replied staunchly.

"I have unfinished business with Loki—and Lady Mia," Thor supplied.

"Yeah? Get in line." Barton was surreptitiously organizing his arrows.

"Me?" Mia sighed. "Great, and I thought we'd officially called things off."

"Hardly. An Intended is not easily cast aside," Thor told her. "Your fate will be tied to Loki long after this battle has ended. Perhaps to the end of your days."

Mia huffed. "Seriously? Goddammit..."

"That aside," Steve said, sounding slightly miffed, "Loki's going to keep this fight focused on us. And that's what we need. Without him, these things could run wild. We've got Stark up top. He's going to need us to…"

Before Steve could go on, a motorcycle pulled up unexpectedly, carrying a certain scientist dressed in oversized and ill-fitting clothing.

"BRUCE!" Mia yelled, abruptly barreling towards him. The others looked mildly surprised, but made no move to stop her. Next minute, she had her arms thrown around the man's neck. Banner actually laughed at the sudden display of affection.

"Didn't Stark say something about anarchists not being demonstrative?" he asked.

Mia hugged him tighter. "Stark's an idiot. I'm glad you're alright, Banner." She was extremely relieved to see him in one piece—he had, after all, fallen out of a helicarrier.

Banner patted her pack a few times, returning the hug. "Glad to see you too, Mia."

The suddenly emotional journalist turned to see all of the other Avengers staring at her. "As you were," she ordered them stiffly, brushing off her suit. Barton smirked and shook his head bemusedly.

"So," Banner said, gesturing around them. "This all seems…horrible."

"I've seen worse," Natasha said, looking him up and down but obviously referring to his big green counterpart.

"Sorry."

"No," she amended. "We could use a little worse." A mild air of mutual appreciation passed between the two silently.

"Stark, we've got him," Steve said.

"Banner?"

Yup," Mia interjected. "Your science bro has _returned_."

"_Science bro._" Tony scoffed at this "Tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you."

Approximately three seconds later—just long enough for everyone to scramble a confused expression—the Iron Man suit cam flying around a distant corner….giant space monster in tow.

"I don't…see how that's a party," Natasha commented weakly.

Mia rolled her eyes at Tony's dramatic ways. "Well, apparently we've all just been Stark'd." Seeing their confused looks intensified she added, "It's like Punk'd, just…"

"A thousand times worse?" Barton finished.

"Yeah. That."

"Doctor Banner?" Steve began. "Now might be a really good time for you to get angry."

"That's my secret, Captain," Banner replied, throwing a wry look back at them all. "I'm always angry."

And right then and there, Banner transformed into the Hulk.

Seeing it firsthand gave Mia a new kind of appreciation for the man. It also made her exceptionally grateful, as she didn't need to morph painfully to access her powers. Still, she was beyond impressed as the Hulked-out Bruce smashed the Chitauri's monster face first into the pavement. Bruce as a rule was so quiet, so kind. Yet she had always sensed a sort of volcano brewing under the surface, and this explained it in full.

The beast's plates began to buckle, its tail end going up in the air from the sudden halt in progression.

"Hold on!" she heard Tony say, and saw him fire several heat seeking missiles at the creature's middle back where the flesh had been exposed.

"Mia, get down!" Steve was calling to her, already kneeling with his shield protecting both himself and Romanoff. Barton had ducked for cover, Thor just stood majestically…and Mia? She did what she did best: threw up her hands and covered all of her exposed friends with a shield of golden sparks.

The monster's body literally slid over the dome of energy, crashing off the edge of the bridge. Once it had come to a groaning halt Mia readjusted the sphere so that it hovered directly over them all as they regrouped. The Hulk walked through the dome with ease, joining their ranks, as did Tony, who hovered downward through the glowing wall effortlessly.

They stood in a circle under Mia's dome, glaring at the enemies around them. Mia stood between Tony and Steve, her hands at her sides and swirling with new sparks, ready for use. She felt an overwhelming sense of pride wash over her. For the first time, she wasn't ashamed of her skills.

"I was wrong," said a voice on her right. Mia turned her head and found Steve looking at her. "You were ready for this. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't mention it, Cap." Mia flashed him a small smile—that, after a moment, faded into a grimace.

"Ugh, don't start flirting _now_." A hard iron elbow nudged her gently in the ribs.

"Ow! Tony!"

"Hey, that was payback for the shocking I had earlier."

"Jerk."

"Take it like a man, Paxton." Mia just shook her head, and ignored him—then cried out in pain.

_Send the rest._

"Mia?"

"I'm…I'm okay." Mia screwed her eyes closed for a moment, wiping away the sound of Loki's thought from her mind. "They're coming," she told them all. "He's sending more through."

"How would you know tha…"Stark began, when a loud creaking sound echoed down from the portal.

"Guys," Natasha said slowly.

They all looked up to see two more of the monstrous brutes worming their way down from the portal, along with an indeterminate number of smaller ships.

"Call it, Captain," Tony instructed.

"All right, listen up."Steve readjusted his grip on his shield. "Until we can close that portal, our priority is containment." He turned to the archer. "Barton, I want you up on that roof. Eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays."

Tony was next. "Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash."

"Can you give me a lift?" Barton asked Tony.

Tony nodded briskly. "Right. Better clench up, Legolas." Neither he nor Barton noticed Mia holding both of her hands up, framing them with a thin clear screen that seemed to be holographic and produced by her sleeves. As Tony and Barton headed for the rooftop, the image of the archer with his arms still around Iron Man's neck was trapped in the screen.

"Is…that a camera?" Natasha asked in disbelief. The Hulk turned and grunted at the sight of Mia smirking.

"Nope, it's blackmail," the journalist replied, squashing her hands together and cancelling out the hologram. She turned back to Steve. "You were saying?"

Steve just stared at her a moment before continuing. "Thor." The god of thunder turned to the Captain expectantly. "You've got to try and bottleneck that portal. You've got the lightning. Light the bastards up."

Thor began whirling Mjolnir, giving Mia one last strong look—perhaps it was the use of the word _bastard_. "Do not attempt to face Loki on your own, Lady Mia," he warned her, as if reading her mind. "He is far beyond reason now, further than he has ever gone afield before. I ask that you not endanger yourself needlessly." With that, he flew off, leaving Mia, Natasha and Steve on the ground with the Hulk.

"You heard him," Steve told Mia just as firmly. "You, me and Romanoff, we stay on the ground. Keep the fighting here. And Hulk…"

Hulk turned around with an expectant snarl.

Steve pointed a finger upwards. "Smash."

The Tony-proclaimed, 'big green rage monster' actually grinned at this before jumping up at least thirteen stories and beating the daylights out of the building—and the Chitauri clinging to its architecture.

Mia found herself surrounded by more Chitauri soon enough, with Steve and Natasha fighting close by. She actually had to duck several times to avoid Cap's shield, and a few of Natasha's stray bullets actually bounced off of her suit at one point. Mia was certain she would have a spattering of bullet shaped bruises on her mid-torso for at least a month.

It was hot, and the air was thick with dust and smoke and debris. Mia kept her suit its default golden color, because the black would have made her so much hotter in the mid-day sun. She was grateful when Thor summoned up a thunderstorm that blotted out the fierce light. Was it just her, or were the surrounding buildings abnormally bright?

It was then that she looked down on the other side of the bridge, away from the blockaded street. She saw more people still struggling to get away, and realized something.

"Steve!" she called over the noise, as the super-soldier took out two assailants at the same time using their own bodies as weapons against each other.

"Paxton?" he called back. "A little busy here!"

"I can get them out!" she yelled, blasting three foot soldiers and a carrier out of the sky.

"Who?" Steve hollered back, confused.

"Them!" Mia looked down into the street below. Steve's eyes followed her gaze. "I can teleport! If I can create a sphere great enough to cover, I don't know, a few blocks in either direction"—she took out two more Chitauri with dagger blasts—"I can move them out of the danger area, to the safe zone!"

"Paxton, that kind of energy expansion could drain you entirely," Natasha called out calmly, while kicking an alien off of the bridge into a plume of flames from an exploded car.

"Isn't that a risk worth taking?"

"Our mission is to distract the invaders, not perform recon!" Steve told her.

Mia created another glowing force field, tossing several waves of Chitauri away and turning them into charred rubble. "Yeah? Well I'm not a soldier." She turned and shot another off of the Widow's back.

"Romanoff's right, Mia," Tony's voice chided her from inside her earpiece. "Do something that drastic and you'll kill yourself. Don't pull a Captain Spangles on me. Pepper would kill me for letting you do something that stupid."

"Thanks, Stark," Steve said dryly.

Mia cast another longing look down at the people in the street. "Tony, I…"

She wasn't sure how it had happened. She could have sworn they'd successfully taken down every carrier that had swung their way. Regardless, there had appeared as if from nowhere a large swarm of armed Chitauri, taking the street below and opening fire on the unarmed populace.

Opening fire on the _children. _ A particular girl, who looked about eight years old in a light blue coat was trapped under part of a large metal street lamp. Crying. Across the street, on the other side of the advancing Chitauri were the rest of her family—and an older girl, crying as her father held her back. Mia watched the trapped girl's lips for a word, horrifically captivated.

"_Iggy!"_

There was no air in her lungs. But somehow, Mia found herself jumping over the railing of the bridge with nothing to catch her, firing sparks out of her _palms _and blasting the aliens into heaps of ash in the middle of the street. She was running towards the little blond haired girl, who now had an especially large and heavily armed alien towering over her. Tears of terror poured down the child's cheeks.

Mia felt an especially large jolt as a flailing Chitauri got a slice at her arm, somehow piercing the material and opening a large gash in her right bicep. She didn't feel the pain though, even after viciously head butting the creature and blasting it into a pile of charcoal.

Then she raised her palms forward, just as the soldier raised his bayonet above the girl—

Mia closed her eyes, and let her grief come pouring out of her.

"NO!" The next moment she was standing in a pile of ash, panting as tears poured down her face. Her hair was singed and burnt, her arm gushing blood down her golden sleeve. She opened her eyes, and saw the little girl looking up at her, blue eyes wide and fearful.

Mia mentally braced herself for the blow, for the name to come pouring out of the girl's mouth. _Monster. Freak. _

But it never did.

Instead, the little girl raised her arms to Mia, sobbing uncontrollably. "Help me!"

Without hesitation, Mia pulled the bar away from the girl's middle, feeling her for any injuries quickly before the girl's arm were wrapped around her shoulders, her little smudged face tucked into Mia's neck. Mia lifted the girl up, hugging her back and getting to her feet. "It's okay," she told the girl, tears still streaming down her own face. "It's okay. You're safe now. I've got you."

In that moment, she wanted it to be Clem. So, so badly she wanted it to be Clem in her arms, safe and sound and out of their father's reach. But it wasn't. It wasn't, and Mia knew it.

Blinking away smoky, dirty tears, Mia looked up at the bridge to see Steve and Natasha looking down at her, watching. No doubt they had seen everything. Gritting her teeth, she turned away from their gaze and made her way across the ghastly ashen street, weaving through the overturned vehicles to where the girl's family waited.

Already they were sobbing, assuming their child had died in the fight that had just occurred. It was the mother who saw Mia first, and more importantly, the light blue form in her arms. The woman screamed aloud and pointed at her.

"Clara!" She shrieked, and broke down into violent weeping. Mia doubled her pace, seeing the older sister running towards her as the father released her in shock. The girl, who was about twelve or thirteen, was screaming out the child's name. "Clara! Clara!"

The child pulled her face from Mia's shoulder to look at her sister. "Nikki!" the girl cried, launching herself into her siblings' arms. A tiny part of Mia's heart broke at this, both at letting the child go and at the sight of the sibling's reunion. Mia made a vow then and there that if she made it through the day alive, she would see her sister free of her father once and for all.

She looked back at the bridge and saw Steve fighting again, Widow somewhere out of sight. When she turned back, the entire family was in a dog pile around the girl, all crying. All speaking, though it took Mia's ears a moment to register what they were saying.

"Thank you," the mother was sobbing into the girl's blond hair. Thank you for saving my baby. Thank you, thank you…"

"You saved our daughter," the man was saying, his eyes shining gratefully and with tears. "You saved our Clara…"

"You're hurt," the older, dark haired girl observed, wiping away her tears. She looked at Mia with keen eyes, seeing her hands retaining a faint golden sparkle around them. "What are you?" she asked, not rudely as much as interestedly.

Still, Mia recoiled from the question. She'd wondered that same thing so many times it hurt to hear it from someone else.

So before things got too painful, Mia turned away from the family, and ran out into the street.

She saw Tony on the bridge with Steve for a moment before blasting off into the sky once more. They were covered, and she knew what she needed to do.

Taking a deep breath, Mia held her palms together before her. She gathered the sparks from her fingers in her hands, shaping a ball that grew and expanded, until it was the size of a beach ball. Then, with one final surge of energy, she threw it up into the air, spreading her palms from above her head and down on either side of her.

The golden sparks exploded high above her head, spreading out and covering the entire street with a sheet of gold that was raised some three stories in the air. It covered the street in reverse order of her hands, so that the two sheets of gold were running towards a colliding point just above Mia. Several carriers had already bounced off the surface, and the crowds beneath it began to cheer.

Her best shield yet, Mia mused happily. She saw Steve peering off of the bridge again, at what she was doing.

Mia gave a single, weary grin of satisfaction before the bolt struck her from above, a direct head shot. A literal bolt from the blue.

Just as the two sheets of gold collided into one above, she crumbled to the ground in a heap, her suit flickering and fading into black material as the sparks died in her hands and crumbled into golden dust.

"MIA!"


	16. Chapter 15

**So awhile back, someone mentioned shipping Steve/Mia…which made me start thinking ship names. Theirs is obvious: Stevia is just a little too perfect, imo. Way too convenient. My hope was to have a split in the readership over the otp… does anyone ship Mia/Loki out there? If you do, you'll like this chapter. Raise your hand, and let me know if you prefer the ship name of Lokia or Mioki. ;) **

**(I'm leaning towards Mioki, myself. At least as a name.)**

**-Ana**

Chapter 15

Back on board the _Valiant, _Fury was watching live news feeds streaming across his control panels on the bridge, forehead furrowed in concentration.

"Sir." Hill came up to him, mildly winded. "The Council's on."

Fury scowled, and pulled up the secure feed he loathed most.

"Councilmembers."

"Director Fury, what is the meaning of this?!"

"Well, it appears that Loki has decided to start a war," Fury declaimed —checking his current rage behind a mask of calm.

"You had direct orders: to obtain and control the Paxton woman before the Tesseract threat escalated!"

"Now that Loki fellow has the Tesseract, and Paxton is loose on the city? Have you any idea how bad this situation is?"

What if she suddenly goes rogue? We could have another Banner incident on our hands! What if—"

"Mia Paxton has assured me that she is in no way eager to misuse her powers," Fury told them. "I've seen her interact with the rest of the team and can say _with confidence_ that she is an asset—_not _a threat." He withheld the information regarding said woman's 'engagement' to the god who was currently wreaking havoc on New York City.

"The 'team'?" someone scoffed. "You don't mean to tell me that this hodgepodge group of rabble-rousers is your long elusive 'team'?"

"My _team_ is the best option we _had_."

"This has gone on long enough."

"Director Fury, the Council _has _made a decision."

"I recognize the Council has made a decision." Fury stood, his hands on his hips and an obvious scowl now lining his face. "But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I have elected to _ignore_ it."

"Director, you're closer than any of our subs. You _scramble _that jet…"

"_That_ is the island of Manhattan, Councilman. Until I'm certain my team can't hold it, I will _not_ order a civilian strike against a civilian population!"

"If we don't hold them here, we lose everything."

"If I send that bird out, we already have." With a vicious jab of a finger Fury terminated the conference. He looked up at Hill, still glaring. "Now I understand how Paxton feels," he muttered angrily. "Idiots."

Hill looked alarmed at his words. "Sir, that's what I'm here to tell you," she said. Her face was both worried and horrified. "Paxton is down."

"WHAT." Fury quickly pulled up his news tabs again, to see footage of Mia taking the kill-shot from an easily recognizable bolt of blue light.

"Shit."

. . .

Far above the city, Loki was still hard at work, using his scepter to blast the buildings and people below him.

Despite the current promising state of things, he was experiencing a conflicted feeling at the moment. This was _strange, _and he sincerely hoped that the Other didn't sense it as well. Yes, Loki had just delivered a fatal blast to his own Intended. The woman had been too busy protecting the innocents to see the strike coming before it was too late.

It had been a perfectly timed shot—one Loki now found himself regretting. What if his plan failed? What if his attempt to scramble her thoughts had only resulted in her death? He had read her file; by all rights a shot of that magnitude should have only knocked her out. But had it? There was no way for him to know, as when she was unconscious he could have no clear image of her thoughts or whereabouts.

Why did he care even now, he wondered? She had made it abundantly clear which side she was on. Still, that faint glimmer of hope skewed his intentions and made him second guess her ability to remain steadfast to her cause. That was why he'd made the effort to shoot her down—not because he wished to kill her, but because some part of him still wanted her to change her mind, even if he had to give her a hard shove to make that happen.

Who knew what would her state of mind would be when she awoke—_if _she awoke. At the moment, Loki's Chitauri forces were gaining a decided upper hand. He had bigger things to fret over—like finally getting his revenge.

But if he was lucky—_if_— then she would awake as a kind of monster the likes of which her friends had no chance of standing against.

. . .

"MIA!"

Without hesitation, Steve was over the edge of the bridge and at her side in a matter of seconds, scooping her up into his arms and checking her for signs of life. "Mia, Mia. Oh, come on. Don't do this to me now," he told her, eyes pricking with tears as he felt for her pulse.

There was nothing.

After a few frantic moments of waiting, Steve laid her on the ground and began CPR. "Come on, Mia," he whispered between compressions. "Come on. Wake up. That's an order, now!" he tried, just daring her to return to consciousness to argue that she wasn't a soldier.

He parted her lips, his face tense with barely suppressed anguish. _I would kiss you again—if, and when you wanted._

Steve felt his chest tighten as he pressed his mouth to hers. A few more tears slipped down his grimy cheek. Why was it that every time he kissed her, it was in an attempt to save her life?

After three attempts at restarting her breathing, Steve simply pressed his lips to hers, tears streaming down his face. He set his forehead against her pale, ash streaked one, holding her face in his gloved hands.

"Oh, Mia." A mangled sob snuck through his teeth. "Not you too." Steve pressed his lips to her forehead, and closed his eyes for just a moment.

A faint beep sounded. Then a second. Then a third. Steve pulled back, and found her suit flickering between gold and black. A green line over her heart began to spike, depicting her recovering heartbeat.

"There we go!" Steve found himself breaking into a wide, teary eyed grin. He sniffed and swiped at his nose with the back of his glove. He laid her back down on the ground, watching her expectantly. "There's my girl. Come on, Mia. You can do it."

The pulse line eventually returned to a normal if slightly elevated heart rate. Steve watched as her lungs began to work, her chest lifting in gentle swells. Slowly, the golden glow began to return to her hands.

Then her face began to move—her forehead contorting into a mass of wrinkles, eyes screwed shut as a flush of pink tinted her cheeks.

"Unnnngh." She opened one eye in a squint, groaning. Steve looked down at her, more relieved than he could find words to describe- not to mention an overwhelming array of other emotions that it was definitely not the time nor place for.

A single green eye peered up at him. "Steve?" she moaned, lifting a hand slowly to her eyes as if everything were very bright. "What the hell happened?"

Steve let out a short, relieved chuckle. "You took a hit, Paxton," he told her. "You're fiancé thought he'd take a shot at you."

Mia's eye closed, and her head flopped back onto the ground. "That bastard," she muttered. "And he's _not_ my fiancé." Both of her eyes sprang open, Steve noticing for the first time the flecks of gold in them. Hardly surprising, he realized. "Can you give me a hand up?"

"I'm not sure that's a good—"

"That's an _order,_ soldier." For a moment Steve wondered if she'd heard him after all. But she couldn't have—not without a pulse.

Silently, Steve got to his feet, picking up his shield as he did. He leaned down and offered her a hand. Tentatively, Mia sat up, grimacing against the pain, and took it. He tugged her gently to her feet, glass crunching under her shoes.

"Aw, that feels like hell." She pressed her hand to her head, wincing, and pulled them away to reveal glowing fingertips covered in blood.

"You need medical attention," Steve told her.

"Yeah, I noticed, Cap." Mia rolled her eyes—and winced again. "Who turned up the goddamn lights?" she demanded.

"Uh, you." Steve pointed a finger up at the glowing shield she'd created. "Nice work, by the way. It almost killed you, but—"

"_Loki_ almost killed me," Mia corrected, flexing her sore fingers thoughtfully. "Not that. You people underestimate me, I'm afraid. I've got a bit more where that came from, and I intend to use it." She pressed a finger to her ear, hearing nothing in her COM. "You got a connection by any chance? My suit's still recalibrating."

"Yeah. But Mia, you need to get out of here. Now. You need to—"

"Steve, please. I—"

"Will you STOP interrupting me?!"

"No!" Mia glared at him. "I'm injured! Stop arguing with the wounded person! God!"

"Then listen to what I'm going to say!"

"We don't have time." Mia grimaced at the crackling in her COM. "Stark, you there?"

"Paxton?" Tony sounded both relieved and horrified. "Cap said you were down, I thought—"

"Cap's wrong. I'm fine." Steve scowled at this.

"She _was_ down, Stark. Now she _mistakenly _thinks she's joining back in the fight."

"I _am_ joining back in the fight."

"Cat eyes, maybe you should listen to gramps for once."

"I told you, I'm fine." The journalist lifted her gaze to the sky. "Does anybody have eyes on Loki? I need to have a word with my Intended."

Tony sighed. "He's in the Tower right now. Hulk's with him."

"Good." Mia began punching coordinates into her sleeve—her right sleeve, as her left had a large crack running down the display and was no longer functional. "Find something for Steve to do, m'kay? I think he's bored."

"Mia, Thor told you not to confront Loki." Steve set a warning hand on her arm.

"Yeah, and that was before he tried to kill me. I think I have the right to give a bit of a lecture now." Mia looked up at him as if he were daft. She scowled. "And stop giving me those big watery blue eyes, for Christ's sake! I've got this."

"Like you had the shield?" Steve said pointedly.

"Yeah. Like that." Apparently they each had different ideas about success. She sighed, then winked at him and pressed the button on her sleeve, disappearing.

"How bad was it, Rogers?" Tony asked seriously.

Steve looked grimly at where she'd fallen. "She didn't have a pulse, Tony. For two minutes, flat line."

There was a long silence.

"Did you give her mouth-to-mouth?"

"Oh, _good grief_!"

. . .

Loki was knocked through the tower window by the Hulk, thrown against a decorative shale wall and onto the ground. The god quickly regained his feet though, before the scientist- turned- enormous green monster could pummel him again.

"ENOUGH!" Loki drew himself up to his full height—which unfortunately wasn't accented by his helmet. He had lost it during his tumble to the tower roof.

Hulk stopped mid-smash, staring at the smaller man as if to say 'excuse me?'

"You are all of you _beneath_ me," Loki declared, fists clenched at his sides in barely controlled rage. "I am a_ god_, you dull creature. And I will _not_ be bullied by—"

He never finished his sentence. The Hulk had lost patience at 'you dull creature', and had promptly grabbed the god by his legs, smacking him about on the tower's floor and reducing it to heaps of rubble. After five good wallops, Hulk left Loki resting uncomfortably in the floor.

Loki let out a long, low whine of pain.

"You know, you shouldn't have called him a 'dull creature'. He's got multiple PHD's."

Mia had materialized directly in front of the window. She took one look up at the big green face and swallowed. "Um, hi Doc." She wasn't exactly sure how to address him when in Hulk-form.

Luckily, the Hulk's angry scowl turned into a smile. "Mia," he intoned.

The journalist looked relieved, and grinned weakly up at him. "Nice to see you, Bruce." She looked behind him at Loki, and whistled. "I see you did a number on Thor's little bro there. Good work."

"Puny god," the Hulk growled, but then looked back at her. "Hurt?" he asked, pointing a huge finger at her wounded arm. The blood had dried on her sleeve from the sun in a long wave of dark brown that reached as low as her elbow.

"Ah, yeah. A little." Mia's hand automatically went to her head, where the pain was fresher and worse. For some reason (perhaps because she was drawing them off to her hands,) her energy wasn't healing her wounds. Unfortunate, but the sooner the battle was finished, the better. "I'll be okay though."

"How hurt?"

"That little shit right over there got me with his scepter."

The Hulk turned halfway, snarling at Loki a second time. The battered god's eyes widened in fright.

Mia set a tiny hand on the giant's arm. "Don't worry," she told him ominously, hands brimming with energy. "I'll take it from here."

With a grunt of approval, Hulk marched out of the room.

Mia sighed in relief as he left. "That went better than I expected," she said, walking confidently to the part of the ruined floor where Loki was. She levitated slightly over the smashed marble, staring down at him from a foot in the air. "Though not, I take it, the way you had."

"You…mock my demise?" Loki barely managed to croak out, eyes shifting from each of her glowing hands to the other.

"I prefer the term 'gloating'. But yes." Mia glared, one singed eyebrow raised. "You do realize this could have been avoided entirely if you'd just listened to me."

"Or…you to me." Loki's slight smile was somewhat lessened by the fact that he couldn't feel his face very well at the moment. "If you'd…simply heeded my council, we would…be sitting atop the world, victorious."

Mia's face darkened. "Get up," she ordered him.

Slowly, Loki extricated himself from the rubble and took a few shaky steps to the short set of gold-lined stairs.

"If you looked like shit before…" Mia shook her head, taking him in with an air of disgust. "You are really messed up now, let me tell you."

Loki looked up at her, eyes filled with genuine pain. "Must you also find joy in my downfall?" His voice caught, and tears slipped over the edges of his eyes. "You, the only person destined to be the one I love?"

Mia stiffened from the sudden change in his tone. This was as gut level honest as she'd ever seen him be. It was like the mask had been lifted, revealing the broken individual behind. An individual who had been broken long before ever setting foot on Earth.

He let out a weak, sardonic laugh. "Fate must truly despise me, to give me someone so worthy, yet so impossibly unreachable." He pursed his lips, looking at her with a plainness of face so unexpected that Mia didn't actually know whether to blast him where he sat, or give him a giant hug. "Why?" he asked quietly. "Why did it have to be you? Why the one woman who never wants me, regardless of circumstance? Of the millions of women in this city, of the billions on this planet, of the indeterminable number in the _universe—_why you, Mia Paxton?"

Mia stared at him a long moment. The questions he asked were valid—hell, she'd often asked similar ones throughout her own lifetime. But she didn't know the answers, to her problems or his.

"I don't know," she replied, throwing her hands up and beginning to pace. In her earpiece she could hear the chatter of the rest of the team. From the sound of things, Tony was giving JARVIS a demonstration of biblical proportions, Steve was getting his ass handed to him and Barton was out of ammunition. Romanoff was silent.

While pacing a loop in front of the shattered window, Mia felt glass crunching under her soles. "I don't know anything, any more than you do," she confessed. "To be honest it feels like my life has been one giant search for answers I'm never going to find, for secrets just _beyond _my reach." She faced him. "But that's not the point. That's not _your _point. You came here to take revenge for something that you feel was taken from _you._ What was it?"

The bruised and thoroughly battered demi-god looked down at the floor, still panting slightly. "It's not something I care to relive," he stated plainly. "Much as you do not care to relive _your_ past, I do have my history—and it's not what the books tell you, I'll promise you that."

"Well good. That's progress. The books would have you mothering an eight-legged, winged horse."

Mia heard Romanoff in her earpiece. _"Paxton, I'm on the roof. We NEED to get Loki's scepter—it can shut down the portal. Do you copy?"_

Loki looked affronted. "_Mothering?_" He repeated.

"Yes," Mia said, a little too firmly. It was as much a response to the Widow as to her Intended.

"_Roger that. Over."_

"I didn't _mother _Sleipnir—I _raised _him, from a foal. He was the irregular offspring of Asgard's finest mated pair of winged horses. His parents rejected him, and the stable-master would have had him culled, had I not intervened." It appeared to really bother Loki that people thought he had given birth to a mutant pegasus. "_Mothering,_" he scoffed breathlessly. "With the facts of Midgard so incorrect, it's really no wonder you do not wish to love me."

"And that's just the more esoteric example," Mia continued, trying to figure out how she was going to keep an eye on Loki and deliver the scepter. She didn't know why it mattered, she had him covered and should have been able to knock him out and walk away. But some odd part of her didn't want to do that—not just then, when he was on the cusp of spilling his guts. "You're rather the popular parent, according to legend: father to any number of strange creatures and people."

"I am not a father," he argued stridently. "Ask Thor, he will confirm it."

"Not even to Hel?"

If possible, Loki just looked more confused. "Hela is my _cousin_," he said, sounding disgusted.

"Oh. Well, that's news." Mia crossed her arms. "Guess we learn something every day."

"If these are the only reasons for you denying me, than rest assured that I am not parent to _anyone _or any_thing." _His eyebrows were stuck in an upward condition, as if deploring the entire concept.

The reason I'm denying you? Look around, Loki!" Mia gestured out at the burning city. "You've been trying to take over my planet since before we met! It's not exactly an endearing quality!"

A small smile lighted on the god's broken lips. "I do believe that was the first time you've addressed me by my name."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well the context could have been better."

Loki's smile softened, ever-so-slightly. "I wish I had known you before all this," he told her, growing disturbed. "I wish I could have met you before I fell from Asgard, before I became the man you see before you now." He gestured vaguely to himself. "Broken. Worthless. A failure. I used to be a prince, you know. A _real_ prince, not an outcast. A royal who lived in a palace, with servants and beautiful halls and splendor all around. I hoped to recreate that here, on Earth. In a court of my own making."

"With me as queen?" Mia guessed.

"Exactly." The light in his eyes faded. "Instead all I have accomplished is putting you into danger—perilous danger."

"I've been in danger my whole life. That's not new."

"This is danger of a kind you have yet to experience," Loki argued. He gazed at her penetratingly, actual fear in his eyes. "The call you received, the call that attracted SHIELD's attention. It was a threat, wasn't it? In words you couldn't understand?"

The blood rushed from Mia's head as if she were upside down. "Yes," she confirmed. "It was. It didn't even sound human."

"It wasn't." Loki shifted, rubbing his sore hands together almost fretfully. "The one whom the Chitauri answer to, the one who created them: he is the one who threatens you. His mouthpiece is the one who contacted you, hoping to frighten you into submission." He swallowed dryly. "He is the one who has placed a price on your head—a price that I cannot fail to pay."

Mia refused to cower at this declaration. "And that price is?"

"The Tesseract, for your life."

Now the journalist blanched. "He knows what I am," she whispered, and cleared her throat before saying more loudly, "He knows what I am, to you."

"He knows you are my Intended, yes. He knew even before I did—how, I do not know." Loki looked at her beseechingly. "You say I look terrible, you say that I am worn before my beating. I bear the weight of your life on my shoulders—and the yoke of the Tesseract's power as a shackle."

This did explain the bruising that had been around his eyes, the wear on his features. Gods _didn't _show weakness—only when _seriously _abused themselves. "They used its power to hold you to your purpose," Mia realized. "You'll only be rid of the Tesseract's weight when it's out of your control."

"And I will only let it out of my control when trading it for your life," said the god seriously. "It is the one bargain I make above all others. Above my bargain for the Earth, I bargain for your _existence_."

"That's why you came aboard the _Valiant," _Mia realized. "You needed to get the Tesseract back to make the trade. Instead, you met me." She smiled faintly in spite of herself.

"A strange love story, is it not? And one whose ending remains unclear as of yet."

"UGGGGH." Mia clutched at her head. "As much as I hate to say it, I think I've just reached my tolerance level for dirty politics. If I live through today, I am so done with journalism." She fisted her hands at her sides, sparks swirling around her wrists as her suit changed from black to gold. "As much as I can see the value in our little talk, I have bigger fish to fry—perhaps literally."

"_Shit. Paxton, we could use a hand up here on the roof!"_

"I did not wish this for you," Loki told her, eyes frantic as if driving a point. "I hope you realize that now. I only wished for you to embrace your powers, in the event that I couldn't protect you."

"So…in the event of now?" Mia gritted her teeth, firing three shots off at him: one at his feet another at his hands, and the final at his head. The first two bound him with live, electric cord. The third struck him in the temple, effectively knocking him out. He lolled to his side and onto the stairs, unconscious.

"That's what I thought." Mia brushed her hands off and cast one last look at the conflicted god sprawled before her. Then she bolted out to retrieve the scepter, and teleported to the roof.


	17. Chapter 16

**Hey guys!**

**There will be a brief hiatus of about a week while I sort out a few things with the last two chapters in **_**Secrets of an Anarchist, **_**then those will be posted. After that it's going to be quite the break I'm afraid, as I don't have book two written yet. What I **_**can**_** tell you is that it will called **_**The Midas Touch,**_** and will center around Mia better understanding and honing her powers. What I **_**can't **_**tell you, as of right now, is **_**which movie it will center around.**_

**I would **_**like **_**to cut straight to CA:TWS so that I can explore Steve and Mia's budding relationship, as well her **_**finally **_**getting her hands on the **_**Project Midas**_** file **_**and**_** exploring the plotline of the movie itself. That way, I can cut to Avengers 2 afterward—and if I keep my NaNo schedule, I should have book two written in around two weeks, leaving plenty of time for AoU to come out. **

**However, there may be some of you who want to see Mia in Thor: The Dark World…those of you who would like to see her interact with Loki, in a better circumstance with Steve out of the picture. She is his Intended, after all; and while his attack on New York was abhorrent, cruel and completely uncalled for, some of us understand the background events that led up to it. Some of us even sympathize…remember, this story started out as a strictly Loki/OC. I sort of changed it up midstream by throwing Steve in the mix. ;)**

**Anyway, I **_**REALLY, REALLY NEED SOME FEEDBACK HERE. **_**What would you guys like to see? If I do write Thor:TDW though I won't be ready for Avengers 2 in time… just keep that in mind. But you will get to see Mioki, and Jane and Darcy in action with Mia.**

**Please review! **

**-Ana**

Chapter 16

"About damn time!" was the first thing Romanoff said when Mia materialized.

"Hello to you too." Mia redoubled her grip on the scepter. "So. This thing can shut down the portal? Explain."

"It's a built in failsafe," a man explained. Mia recognized his voice –granted, at the time it had been much tinnier from Jane's speakerphone.

"Oh my—you're Erik Selvig, aren't you?"

Selvig looked ashamed, probably in light of his most recent affiliation. "Yes," he admitted.

Next moment, the scepter was thrust into Natasha's hands, and the scientist was wrapped in a golden bear hug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor," Mia told him. It was like a little part of Darcy and Jane was with her, at the very end of things.

"Ah…you too," the confused scientist replied.

The now ex-journalist pulled back and observed the man carefully. "Is this for real, this failsafe?"

"Yes."

"Then what do we do?"

"The computer, first."

Mia set about helping the still shaky scientist set up the device on a tripod, plugging in what felt like a thousand different connections. Each moment, Steve or Tony or Thor or Bruce was out there, doing who knew what with or without backup, and the people of New York were in greater danger by the second as the Chitauri still poured through the portal.

Now that she knew why Loki had done what he had, now that she knew that it all rested on her (as usual,) Mia just wanted everything to be done. Over. Finished.

"Right at the crown!" Selvig was telling Natasha, pointing at the Tesseract's housing. As the scepter was moved towards it, a globe of blue energy reminiscent of Mia's own golden ones built around the device, encasing it.

"Tell the boys!" Mia told the assassin, trying to reestablish her COM channel.

"Can't you do it?" Natasha asked, grimacing as she shoved the scepter past the energy sphere.

"My COM got scrambled during teleportation! Just _do_ it!"

Romanoff raised an eyebrow, redoubling her grip on the scepter. "Yes _ma'am_." She set a finger to her ear, her voice doubled by the COM in Mia's own ear. "I can close it," he said, her tone suddenly softer. "Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down."

"What, is that your hero voice?!" Mia cried, irritated. The Widow had been much gruffer with her only seconds earlier.

"Shut it!" Natasha yelled in frustration, though Mia wasn't sure if she was talking to her or _about_ the portal. She was too busy locating the correct setting on her wrist.

"…ia?" Steve's voice came through Mia's earpiece like music. "Is Mia safe?"

"I'm right here, Captain," Mia said, laughing in relief at hearing his voice. A tear actually snuck down her cheek—where the hell had that come from, anyway?

"Then do it!"

"_No, wait."_ Tony had his _serious shit_ tone on.

"Stark, these things are still coming," Steve yelled. Meanwhile, Selvig had finally noticed Mia's hands.

"_I got a nuke coming in."_

"Is that self-produced ambient energy?" he gasped, reaching out to examine her hands.

"Not time for a science exhibit, Doc!" Mia jumped away from him, taking a position on the edge of the roof . "What do you _mean, a nuke?_" she hollered, watching the bright red streak of Tony's Iron Man suit sailing away from the city and out over the ocean. "Please tell me when you say nuke, its codeword for something a lot more helpful and a _lot _less missile."

"No such luck. Worse, it's going to blow in less than a minute. If we weren't all about to die, I'd say this had all the makings of a great day in print for you, Paxton."

"Seriously?" Mia gripped her hands before firing off a few rounds of sparks at passing ships. Two tumbled out of the air, smoking.

"I'll take that as a yes," the scientist muttered in shock, eyes wide. Then he turned worriedly back to the Tesseract.

"What the hell do we do?"

"Well luckily, I know just where to put it."

"Tony, _DON'T YOU DARE."_ Mia shot so viciously that her hands began to ache, her blistered palms crackling from the heat. She was too upset to grimace. "Don't you _dare _do this to me! To Pepper! To—"

"BAD TIMING, cat eyes!" he grunted. "And anyway, it's headed for the Tower."

"WHAT?!" Sure enough, the missile was rushing straight toward the mid-section of the tower.

"I'm running out of power. If I can get it up to your level, do you think you can give me a boost?"

"Stark, no! She can't, she's already—"

Mia felt her eyes flooding as she looked at the meager strands training around her fingertips. "You bet, Ironass," she said weakly, her voice cracking as she cut the Captain off. She raised her palms level, watching them swirl with sparks.

She had to do this.

As the missile rushed up past her with Tony right behind it, she released her payload, palms blasting out a huge fountain of golden sparks that seemed to caress both the bomb and the man in the Red Suit, spiraling around the Tesseract's beam like a DNA double-helix.

The pain in Mia's hands was tremendous, like coal that had been doused in gasoline, then lit on fire and placed on her palms—or like a flame-torch being applied directly to an open wound. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, her whole body arching against the pain.

"MIA!" Steve's voice was horrified, urgent.

Selvig caught Mia as she tumbled backward, away from the edge. The man stared appalled at the damage done to Mia's hands. "Oh my God."

"She's okay," Natasha told the others. "She's alive—even conscious."

"Mia?" Steve called, as if checking this information for himself.

"Really wishing I wasn't right now," Mia sobbed, clutching her hands to her chest. Her sleeves were glowing red from the elbow down.

"I'm sorry, cat eyes." Tony sounded oddly emotional.

"Stark." Steve's voice was a full octave lower with seriousness. "You know that's a one way trip—even with Mia's help."

There was a long pause, during which Mia was nearly certain he was talking to JARVIS.

"Mia?" There was a long pause. "Tell Pepper I—" The COM cut out.

"Tony?" Mia wrenched out of Selvig's grip, clutching at her earpiece in spite of the pain. "Tony? Steve, are you there?" Her voice was tight and strained as she watched Tony lead the missile into the portal. "Steve?"

"I'm here," Steve answered her. Mia felt her body go numb. "Stark's out of reach."

They heard the muffled explosion as the missile hit something on the other side of the portal. And they saw the Chitauri suddenly fall, wherever they stood. A hive mind, Mia realized. No doubt there would be many a sciency conversation about that concept between Bruce and….

Tony?

They all watched in silent anticipation, waiting for the impossible. Hoping for the impossible, _praying _for the impossible.

"Come on, Stark," Natasha muttered, voicing the sentiment Mia was screaming in her head.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare make me tell Pepper that you—" Mia bit her lip to stop a fresh bout of tears. But what really tore at her was hearing Steve make the call.

"Close it."

"No!" Mia reached out a hand, tiny wisps of sparks floating from her fingertips. It wasn't nearly enough to match the Tesseract's energy though, especially as Natasha forced the scepter through to the Cube itself.

The bright beam of light from the machine ceased, the long laser-like stream of light snapping apart. The portal contracted, and began to shut, the patch of dark sky behind it disappearing from sight.

That's when she saw it: the tiny, dark speck falling away from the blue dome above, down down down towards the city.

And that's when Mia really lost it.

"TONY MOTHER EFFING STARK!" she bellowed into the earpiece. "IF YOU'RE NOT DEAD WHEN YOU HIT THE GROUND, SO HELP ME, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU MYSELF!"

"Son of a gun." Mia could hear the smile in Steve's words. But she could also see Tony free falling with no sign of firing a repulsor anytime soon.

Thor apparently noticed it too. "He's not slowing down."

"Shit," Mia swore, clenching her jaw and hissing through her teeth as she struggled to activate the bio-lock on Steve again. Her charred fingers slipped fruitlessly across the screen. "I didn't actually mean it…"

Then she vanished.

"Honestly," Natasha said with a shake of her head. "That woman needs to stop caring so damn much."

. . .

When Mia rematerialized for what she hoped was the last time that day, she found Tony already on the ground, with Thor, Steve and the Hulk standing over him. His faceplate had been wrenched off, revealing a still face. A still Tony face—that was all wrong, had 'wrong' written all over it. Tony didn't even like sleeping, according to Pepper.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Mia said miserably, appearing directly behind the god of thunder and the super soldier. Immediately, all three men were aware of her presence, with Hulk giving a worried grunt and Steve immediately at her side, slipping an arm around her waist to support her as her knees tried to give out. She hardly saw him.

Mia knew it wasn't directly her fault, but still felt like it was because of her lack of strength that Tony hadn't had the power he needed for the return journey. "Come on, Tony," she begged, as Steve helped her come closer. "Since when have you ever taken my threats seriously? Don't make this the first time. Up and attem, Ironhead."

Mia," Steve began, trying to soothe her.

"No! He owes me twenty thousand bucks, because I made it through the battle. He's not getting out of debt that easy." This was a calloused thing to say, but Steve knew she was trying to hide how affected she truly was. "I am _not _giving you the kiss of life buddy, so wakey wakey before I make one of the blonds do it."

Steve blanched at this. Thor just looked confused and distraught.

"Lady Mia…"

"NO!" She was breathing hard now, fighting off tears. "Banner, do something!" she cried brokenly, moving aside a lock of Tony's hair. "He's your _science bro."_ _Science bro_ almost came out as a whimper.

"Mia. He's gone." Steve gently knelt beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist a second time as she wavered in a crouch. Mia screwed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing as he tucked her face into his shoulder. Steve's blue eyes came to rest on Tony's face, his previous words echoing in his mind.

_I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you._

The sacrifice play.

There, at the last moment possible, Tony Stark had proven his worth.

Above them, the Hulk's face contorted in a mixture of anguish and anger and he fisted his massive hands. Then he roared loudly at the billionaire, as if mourning his loss.

Tony's eyes flew open, lips splayed in a wide gasp.

"What the hell! What just happened?" he demanded breathlessly. "Please tell me nobody kissed me."

Steve grinned at him, eyes shining. He shook his head. "No. Paxton wouldn't let us, the spoilsport."

"She just doesn't want to share you…speaking of which, why is said anarchist hugging my torso?"

"Damn you and your last minute resuscitation," she laughed, ignoring the tears of pain streaming down her face from her gripping his suit with destroyed hands.

"So what _did _happen?"

Steve sat back on his haunches, looking up at the clear sky. Free from any invading aliens. "We won," he said simply.

Tony gave a cheer. "Alright, yay! Hooray. Good job, guys." He glanced down at Mia's head. "Holy shit! You've got an egg there, rookie. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day."

Mia lifted her bruised head up to stare at her recovered friend with happy green eyes. "Have you guys ever tried shawarma?" Tony asked them all. Steve laughed at him, as Mia leaned back against his left shoulder with her eyes closed: just savoring the fact that they were all okay. "There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I want to try it."

"Leave it to you to be thinking about food right now, Tony," Mia sighed humorously. To her surprise, she felt Steve press his lips into her hair, his arm around her again. She looked up at him—and found their lips just millimeters apart.

Steve's eyes went to her mouth, and he bit his lip. Mia found her eyes locked on his, unable to look away. She could have sworn there and then that blue eyes were destined to be her downfall.

"We're not finished yet." Whether Thor's comment was meant to ruin their moment or not, it did. Mia found herself blinking in surprise as if released from hypnosis, while Steve turned his head away, his cheeks flushed a rosy and adorable pink and his hair falling in his eyes abashedly.

"Aw, point break ruin your little moment there?" Tony still seemed to have enough energy to jibe them. "Shame. I really wanted to see Mia kiss an old guy. I mean, a really old guy. I mean, a really, really, _reaaally_…"

"Tony. Don't make me hate you so soon after losing you," Mia told him as Steve helped her to her feet. Their eyes locked for a split moment before flitting apart. Still, one of his gloved hands remained on her waistline.

"Fair enough."

"We must deal with Loki."

"And shawarma after?"

Minutes later, the team found themselves standing in Stark Tower, looking down at a Loki that was bound hand-and-foot. He must have regained consciousness while Mia was gone, because he was looking up at them, awake and suddenly very alert.

"Where is she?" He asked urgently, as they began to file into the room and form a group in front of him.

"Oh, missing your Intended already? Looks like you two were in for a little fun." At that moment, Steve walked in—his shield on one arm, and Mia on the other. The soldier was carefully watching her, as if she might break at any moment. "Too bad she's made other plans."

Loki's face fell, and he looked to Thor as if for sympathy. He found none.

"If it's all the same to you," he said to Tony, "I'll have that drink now."

Instead, he was met with an alarming array of weapons pointed in his face.

In the back and nearly out of sight, Mia watched the arrest with consternation. She alone knew why Loki had done what he had—what had started out as conquest had become something much more sinister, and not on his part. It made her sick to think that he would be punished for what he had done to protect her.

Then she thought of all of the innocent, unsuspecting people that had died in New York City that day, and her empathy faded.

Justice came in varying degrees of imperfection. But for once, this was a degree she could tolerate—and even support.

. . .

It was a week and a half out from the New York incident, and Mia Paxton was standing in Director Fury's office with a semi-impatient expression on her face.

She had lost the head bandage earlier in the week, along with the wrappings she'd gained in the battle. Now, she had invisible wounds to heal, both in her heart and in her life—as stupid as _that _sounded.

Mia knew that her situation with the god of mischief was far from resolved. She was still his Intended, and Thor had mentioned that her very existence would raise a lot of questions and concerns back on Asgard—let alone her refusal to return his affections, or strive towards any kind of reconciliation.

She also knew that her public appearance as a member of the Avengers would open up a full scale inquiry at the White House, and possibly jeopardize her alias as an ex-cop turned political journalist. These things were being made very clear to her by Director Fury, who was trying (and completely failing) to recruit her to SHIELD.

True to her mid-battle resolution, Mia hadn't returned to her job as a journalist. Not that she'd had time thus far—she just didn't intend to make it later, either.

"I appreciate the offer, Fury," she was saying, for what felt like the thousandth time that week.

"Then why do you keep turning me down?"

"Because I know what I want to do from here on out, and it doesn't involve politics or secret organizations. Not anymore." Mia didn't want to have anything to do with that element. With all of her own secrets to work on, she didn't feel the need to explore the secrets of others. "I just want to be an ordinary badge, Fury. I want to be a detective and blend in amidst a sea of blue shirts. I _know _ that's not too much to ask."

Fury made a noise of dissent. "Captain Rogers will be disappointed," he tried.

The ex-journalist let her green eyes wander over the grey walls of the office, searching for an adequate reply. Most of the world knew about how Steve felt about her—a surprising thing, since she'd been just as shocked by the footage of his attempts to resuscitate her. There was no mistaking the emotions on his face, no hiding what was going on in his head. Steve's face was like an open book, easily read. After seeing it Mia had finally realized why she and Steve had managed not to cross paths since Loki's arrest. She did wonder, though, if it his actions were a result of stress and grief—or because he'd meant them.

As it was, she was trying to content herself with not knowing.

"I think he'll manage without me," she said finally, giving Fury a slight nod.

"I don't know about that. He's grown rather attached to you. I don't think he's been so close to anyone since waking up from the ice." The director shuffled some papers on his desk. "We're sending him to DC."

Mia furrowed her brow. "Sir, Captain Rogers is a capable man. I'm sure he will do very well in DC. That being said, I don't understand where you're going with this."

Fury glared at her. "Don't play me for a fool, Paxton. I know you're going to go after those _Midas_ files, regardless of rejoining the force. Now, while I am sure the 12th would be thrilled to have a good detective back, I am _certain_ of a position in DC that would place you a lot closer to where those files are _kept."_

"The Triskelion," Mia realized.

"Exactly. As it happens, Rogers is going to be based out of the building as well. Now, if you want any chance of recovering those files, you might consider taking my offer."

"And that offer is?"

"Lead investigator on a team of agents, tasked with recovering whatever information has been leaked about Phase 2."

Mia stared at him for a long minute. "You have got to be kidding me. Cleaning up _your _mess?" She shook her head. "I'm actually insulted that you think I'd stoop to that."

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't like to get the answers we want, Paxton."

"That's not a trade I'm willing to make right now. And anyway, I have people to consider. I can't just up and move to DC."

"So you'd choose Jane Foster and her intern over a chance to become Captain America's significant other?" Mia whirled to see that Natasha had entered the room. The redhead was leaning against a metal bookcase, arms crossed. "We all know he cares about you, above and beyond a strictly platonic level."

"What are you saying?" Mia asked stiffly.

"I'm just saying, if you go to DC, things are likely to escalate. If you stay in New York, well… you might be missing an opportunity."

"Steve isn't an _opportunity,_" said Mia, anger clinging to each word. "He's a wonderful person, who deserves someone who can give him the kind of attention he deserves."

"And…why can't you do that?"

"Because number one, SHIELD isn't _ ."_ The brunette crossed her arms huffily. "B, I'm not in any position to be in a relationship—and am I honestly the only one disturbed by the fact that this conversation is happening in Director Fury's presence?"

"No," Fury deadpanned. "You're not."

"Thank you." Mia let out her breath. "Now. As much as I care about Steve, I _will not _be going to DC. I have plenty to do here in Manhattan, and _yes, _there is Jane and Darcy to consider. They're the closest thing to family I have anymore."

"I think Foster would understand. She is, after all, in a relationship with Thor. You can't get the guy to stop talking about her."

"Honestly, that's a moot point—though Jane and I will be having an interesting conversation in the near future. Friendships aside, I don't have an urge to move directly under my father's nose."

Fury sighed deeply, casting Romanoff a look that said 'let's not go here.' "Very well. You've completed your debriefing, retrieved your belongings days ago…I don't see any reason why you can't leave the _Valiant_." He cocked his head, peering at her with one eye. "My only regret is that I don't have some way to repay you for your services."

"Well, you could just give me the _Midas _files." This ploy was met with a level stare. "Right. Well, I tried. It was worth a shot, anyway."

"You will be expected to show up for Loki's transfer," Fury told her, as if she hadn't spoken. "Thor assures me that the whole thing should be relatively painless, for you. Loki might have a little trouble swallowing his pride at losing his Intended, but I think that would be a welcome sight." He actually smiled a little at the thought.

But Mia was staring at the concrete floor, disturbed. The fact that Loki had been under the control of another when attacking still stuck with her, even after the battle. Not that he hadn't started the idea of Earth's invasion himself, because from the sound of things he had. Loki's 'sponsor' had seemingly pulled the rug out from under him after striking the deal, which still made everything that had happened Loki's fault, regardless of his personal mission to protect her—by putting her into danger.

God, he really was a piece of work.

"I'd like to speak with him." Mia was surprised at the words that had come out of her mouth—she hadn't planned on seeing him again. But now, she found herself with the need to, if only to assuage her own guilt.

"Loki?" Fury scoffed. "Paxton, you know I can't allow that."

"Actually, Director," Natasha cut in. She stared her superior down. "That's not true. You _can _let her in to see him. You just don't think it's a good idea."

"Yes, _thank you _Romanoff, for the rephrasing that I didn't ask for." Fury glared at Widow irritably.

"I need to speak with him," Mia insisted.

"It's not that simple. There are security measures in place—"

"That can be overridden," Romanoff added with a dismissive shrug. "And I can provide surveillance, if it's any help."

"Plus, I'll wear the suit. And I'm always armed." To prove her point, Mia held up a hand glowing faintly with sparks.

From the look on Fury's face, Mia knew she had won. She cast a satisfied smirk at Natasha.

"Fine. Paxton, you'll get your visit with Loki, and your recommendation. Now, you two, get out of my office before I do something I really regret," the Director ordered, pointing a finger at the door while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Right. I'd say 'see you soon', only I really hope I don't since it's probably going to mean I'm either in trouble or needed for something I'm bound not to like."

"Trust me, Miss Paxton. The feeling is _mutual_."


End file.
